Whispers in the Dark
by scarletdestiny
Summary: "Hope is the most dangerous weapon." Dark and Light: Two conflicting ideals locked in eternal combat. Seeds of doubt begin to corrupt Kylo Ren's philosophy after the failed attack on Crait. Desperate to cast aside the lingering effects of Rey's Force connection, he finds himself forced to confront his growing conflict to keep Rey from plunging into the Darkness he knows too well.
1. Chapter 1: Unbalanced

_A/N: At the request of a friend, I am endeavoring to write a continuation of TLJ. As a fair warning to all who read this fic, my knowledge of the current Star Wars canon is limited, for I grew up reading the original canon books (the ones that are now labeled "Legends.") Therefore, all of my knowledge of the current movie characters comes from the movies themselves. My deepest apologies if I stray too far from the current canon in my flashbacks._

 _I would also like to acknowledge my new editor, Anghara - with her wonderful assistance, this fic will soon be edited and error-free!_

 _The build-up to reylo will take awhile, fair warning, due to my belief that neither character is exactly in the right frame of mind to simply have this fic incorporate a fast-paced relationship. Bear with me, though, it'll happen._

 _Rating is "M" based on later chapters' content: Dark psychological themes, torture, and questionable morals. I'll post warnings at the beginning of chapters._ _No real warnings in this first chapter._

 _Cover photo retrieved from Pinterest in a free-to-use section._

 _Disclaimer: In no way do I own any part of Star Wars. Though I do claim the OCs which will appear in later chapters as my own.  
***_

Staring out into the fathomless depths of space caused an eerie sense of calm to wash over Kylo Ren. In the five excruciating days since the mutual failure of both the First Order and what remained of the Resistance on Crait, he had barely had the time to sleep or eat, much less take the time to try and contain the majority of his raging emotions.

Due to the tension hanging over every head in the First Order and the mixture of fearful and skeptical glances he received from those soldiers meant to be underlings who would never dare to question their leader, it was becoming abundantly clear to Kylo that he could no longer afford to lose his temper on a daily basis.

Now, standing alone on the observation deck, he forced himself to peel back the shoddily-constructed mental barriers that he had hoped would keep the most potent of his emotions in check until he could properly address them.

Just days before, he had been flooded with such unbridled fury that he felt it would burn all logic away, leaving only an unquenchable thirst for vengeance. That rage had since diminished into a cooling ember.

Trepidation began gnawing its way into the outermost portions of his mind, where his defenses faltered the most. _Anger is my strongest ally,_ he thought grimly. _Without anger fueling my connection to the dark side, I become vulnerable._

Weakness was never an option.

Momentarily brushing aside the cobwebs of concern, he delved deeper into the layers of conflicting emotions burdening his overtaxed psyche. Disbelief in the events of the past few days threatened to overwhelm him. Had he really gone from murdering his master just to save the girl who ought to have been his nemesis to offering to throw away most of what he had spent the past eight years building to make aforementioned girl pleased, to almost losing himself to a rage he could barely control when confronted with the Force projection of his uncle, all in the span of a couple of hours?

Locked inside his mind where no one else could see, he debated why it was that he felt more disappointed and let down than angry. By all reason, he felt that he ought to be livid that Luke Skywalker had had the audacity to die a somewhat peaceful - if confusing and anti-climatic - death instead of being torn to shreds by Kylo's lightsaber, as had always been the plan.

Yet, the deeper he delved into his emotions, the more he found that the old rage which once had burned fiercely against his uncle had faded into a numb acceptance. The realization was both startling and comforting. Perhaps now he would be able to focus on destroying the Resistance once and for all.

Except...destroying the Resistance meant eliminating every remaining person in the galaxy who held a shred of hope that he would somehow find his way back from the caverns of darkness in which he freely wandered. Years of training under Snoke, combined with many more years of constantly being told to squelch his conflicting emotions had taken their toll on his consciousness so he could no longer tell - even in his own mind - if his actions could be considered moral.

 _Hope is the most dangerous weapon._

For a brief moment, when _that girl_ \- he ardently refused to say her name, even in the safety of his own mind - had wormed her way into his head with her unwavering faith that it was never too late for people to change, he had allowed himself to believe that his destiny could lay somewhere other than at his master's feet. He had felt no sympathy, no rage, no hesitation when he had activated his grandfather's lightsaber and cut down his master.

Only now were the implications of his actions beginning to fully dawn on him.

When his connection with the girl had first begun, when it had strengthened into an uneasy alliance, when it had glistened with the promise of being an actual friendship, he had allowed himself to wonder what it would be like to turn aside from his current path and forge a new one. One free of a master's control, one in which he decided right from wrong, one in which his destiny could be changed.

But then, after offering all of himself, the girl had simply rejected him and turned away. Hadn't she understood how hard he had fought just to be standing there with her in that moment? She had claimed to see the conflict within him, to understand how it felt to be alone among a sea of people. How could she so easily rip his heart from his chest and crush it?

It was not the pull of the light that had drawn him to her, for he knew better than to walk that path. No, it had been the sureness of her own morality, the resolve in her soft eyes when she promised to help rescue him from the prison he had been thrown in many years prior.

As a child, he sat calmly on the stone floor, staring at the prison cell door with all of the innocent belief that came from wholeheartedly believing that one's elders knew best.

Growing into adolescence, he found himself testing the limits of his cage, pulling against the metal bars with all the strength he could muster. Doubt creeped deep into his soul and burrowed a hole into his heart. His once unwavering faith began to falter.

By the time he became a young adult, most of the damage had been dealt. Small nicks in his soul weathered and aged him prematurely. Passionate arguments with his parents turned into an estrangement much more severe than the loneliness he had often encountered as a child. His uncle's once comforting teachings of the Jedi Order and its ways turned his stomach sour and muddled his brain: there were so many discrepancies, so many conflicting modes of thought.

The idea of blindly following what he was told and pushing away all sense of emotion and individual thought made his blood boil. How could so many of his uncle's students nod their heads in agreement to teachings which not even the members of the old Jedi Order had wholly followed?

And yet, for all the peace and serenity that the Jedi preached, for all their talk of goodness, no one had bothered to try and save _him_. At the first hint of discord, they had all fled - his mother, his father, his friends, and worst of all his uncle. What good was knowledge if questioning it set a person apart?

What good were people if they tried to cut down whatever was different?

It had been so many years since he had considered another way of life that the girl's odd, seemingly-misplaced trust in him had stirred up those desperate feelings from his childhood of wanting to belong, of wanting someone to see him for him, not for his family's legacy.

He had been drowning without knowing he was anywhere near water.

Then, like a whirlwind, _she_ had invaded his head and forced him to reconsider everything.

And just like everyone who had come before, she had taken one quick glance at the damage he had wrought, the conflict that constantly battled inside, and had decided nothing could be done to patch him back together.

The irony of the situation forced a low chuckle from his throat. If he was conflicted, what was she? Yes, he had long ago given into the darkness within himself. But he felt that darkness so profoundly in her - such a savior she was turning out to be. It would take little effort to push her spiraling into the void. She had no restraint over her emotions, no idea where those damning emotions could lead if she continued to let them run wild. Soon enough, they would consume her, no matter her "pure" intentions.

With that thought, Kylo Ren uncovered the last key to his emotional hailstorm: guilt. Guilt over the girl's predicament, guilt that the Jedi Master who should have been willing to teach her had taken one look into her soul and had seen too much of a wayward former student, guilt that he himself was too consumed with his own conflict to give her advice.

Even if he could reach her now, he doubted that she would take kindly to any advice he had to offer.

But there was no one else remaining who could keep her from falling from grace. It was wrong, he knew, it was hypocritical to try and teach her anything about the Force when he had fallen so far from the ways of the Jedi. But seeing the clash of light and dark in her mind awoke a strange sense of protectiveness within him: she could not follow him down into the void; he had never meant to tempt her with that offer to begin with - he had merely wanted to help free her from his uncle's influence before the Jedi tarnished her soul as well.

He would never return to the light, for it had never accepted him - choosing instead to judge and choke the life from him.

Neither could he allow her to cross the threshold and embrace the dark. With her limited experience with the Force, it would swallow her whole.

 _I may be unbalanced,_ he acknowledged, _but I am the only chance she has to survive. And I will do whatever it takes to stop her inevitable descent. I cannot change my course, just as I cannot be saved, but I will not drag her down with me._

A persistent pull on his mind startled him. _Rey._ Squaring his shoulders, determination coursing through his body, he turned slowly.

Confusion filled him as his eyes skipped over an empty room. _Perhaps the bond is too weak to allow for visual contact?_

The pressure in his skull intensified, forcing a gasp from his throat. Struggling through the building pain and the hastily spreading darkness from the corners of his mind, he steadied his gaze on the fuzzy outline of a person emerging into view.

Darkness gripped his mind, scattering all thoughts of his personal redemption in the eyes of the girl he was supposed to hate. A cold dread settled into his bones even as the void in his head overtook his threshold for pain.

Desperately, he reached out for the Force to create a barrier between himself and the image which was quickly becoming clearer, only to have his connection with the darkness swatted away.

Images flickered through his mind with such speed that his mind recoiled in protest. In a vain attempt for control, he fumbled to grab onto an image, only to have it be swept past a second later, pulled along by the unrelenting course of what he assumed were memories. Hundreds of emotions stirred within him, all vying for his immediate attention.

 _Weak..._ The darkness whispered, _You are weak._

Fear overtook him then, spreading like a cancer throughout his entire being, chasing out all of the light which contaminated his soul.

He had to know. He had to be sure.

With all his remaining strength, he cracked his eyes open. In any other situation, he would have been enraged to find that he had fallen to his knees. His sweat-slicked hands pressed hard on the cold, metal floor, feebly trying to find a way to anchor his mind. Tears ran down his face, squeezed from his eyes through the intensity of his pain. Darkness flickered over his vision, threatening to crush him.

A red glow as bright and dangerous as the energy expelled from his lightsaber enveloped the man standing before him, glowering down from above.

"Master," he croaked in disbelief.

The sickening, victorious smirk that stretched over the former Supreme Leader's scarred face was the last thing Kylo Ren registered before slipping into the darkness.  
***

 _Thank you for reading!_

 _Please feel free to leave a review. If you feel so inclined to offer knowledge on current canon happenings in the novels, please either leave a review or DM me; all assistance is appreciated._


	2. Chapter 2: Flickering Light

_A/N: My apologies for the delay in updating. This chapter is longer than originally planned, so hopefully that helps make up for making you all wait._

 _Just so you all can mentally prepare yourselves, this fic will switch back between POVs every other chapter from Kylo Ren/Ben Solo to Rey.  
***_

Rey collapsed gratefully in the _Falcon's_ pilot chair. Every fiber in her being urged her to curl up against the faded leather of the seat, close her eyes, and drift into a dreamless sleep.

The past few weeks had drained her in more ways than she had formerly believed possible. Adrenaline had kept her physical body from succumbing to exhaustion; faith in her friends had fortified her mental resolve, gently pulling her further into their enthusiastic atmosphere.

Her emotions had taken the brunt of the damage, however. In the span of a few short days, almost every hope she so tightly clung to had been shattered, leaving her emotions frayed and untethered.

She had been so sure that all she required was a bit of training in the ways of the Force, then she and the Resistance would topple the First Order once and for all.

She had been positive that her parents had abandoned her in order to protect her - they had seen no other way to save her from the evil chasing them so they left her alone on Jakku, planning to return as soon as they could. Barring their return, she had known, deep in her bones that she would find her parents while helping the Resistance.

Tears streaming down their faces, they would gaze on their daughter with adoration before rushing to embrace her in a hug that would never be broken. Her father would pull her close, smelling of sweat and leather from long days staring up at the sky waiting for his daughter to find her way home, and would whisper "I'm proud of you; I love you" over and over until she never forgot. Her mother's hands would be soft and warm, her smile bright and carefree. As their embrace lingered, Rey would know that she had followed the right path in joining the Resistance, in training in the ways of the Force. Her mother and father were proud of her. They loved her.

That hope had been sucked into the cold and unforgiving vacuum of space.

Horror had gripped her heart, squeezing every drop of hope unrelentlessly from her mind when Kylo Ren had smashed her dreams of a happy family. He hadn't intended the words to be cruel and cut her heart to shreds, she had seen that by the pained expression on his face as he spoke, but still the truth slashed her apart like the blade of a lightsaber.

Sighing heavily, Rey pulled herself up from the pilot's chair. Dwelling on her latest confrontation with her supposed-enemy would only rip her emotions open further. For a few brief, bright days, she had allowed herself to be fooled into believing that Ben Solo existed somewhere, locked away in the swirling void of bitterness and anger that was Kylo Ren. Now, she was confronted with the ugly realization that the final shreds of Ben Solo had died right before her eyes as she rejected his offer of ruling the galaxy in favor of saving her friends.

 _I did not kill him,_ she chided herself. _I stuck to my values and chose my friends and the vows I made to them and to the Resistance over a man who clearly has no desire to be redeemed._

Yet, even as she thought the words, her mind spun in confusion over which parts of the moments she shared with her general's son had been real and which had been manufactured by Snoke. _Was Ben trying to push his way back, or were all of his words funneled through the mask of Kylo Ren? Was I being played?_

 _Is there any hope left at all for Ben?_

As the mentions of his name in her thoughts became more prominent, Rey felt the tap on the edge of her consciousness grow steadily stronger as Kylo Ren tried to pry open their Force connection and gain access to her.

Rey grasped the control panel in front of her to steady herself and breathed in deeply, grounding herself. Drawing upon the Light side of the Force, along with her characteristic stubbornness, Rey tried her best to remember the meditation practices Luke Skywalker had taught her during their brief time together. She had no intention of allowing her connection with Kylo Ren to open. Not today, not ever.

" _You cannot run from me."_ Rey shivered involuntarily as the cold, mocking voice slid through the cracks in her mental defenses. The voice hadn't sounded like Kylo Ren, though she reminded herself that there was no one else the voice could have belonged to - even if other Force-sensitive people were in reach of her, they would be unable to breach her connection with Kylo Ren.

Gasping softly, Rey's meditation focus crumbled as hundreds of small, sharp pains dug into her mind like knives. Gritting her teeth, her fingers curled tighter against the control panel as she pushed back against the Force connection, trying desperately to replicate her actions when she had left Crait.

Agony swept across her consciousness, almost forcing her to her knees. " _Peace is a lie…"_ A chill passed over her spine as the haunting voice whispered those words over and over.

" _Peace is a lie…"_

The crack in her mind widened. The pain grew in intensity. _I can't fight this,_ Rey thought with despair.

Anxiety gripped her heart tightly, freezing out all thoughts of escape. " _You have given me nothing but failure."_

Darkness creeped in around her consciousness from all sides, locking her in her mind. _Is this how I die? Trapped in a Force connection and overwhelmed by the Dark Side?_

Suddenly, the darkness was pulled back like air through a hole, recoiling from her mind and fading back through the now numerous cracks in her mental walls. " _I'm sorry, Rey -"_ a soft voice, burdened with unhealed wounds and mind-numbing guilt whispered through the last remaining thread of the connection.

With what seemed to Rey an audible _clang,_ the connection slammed shut.

Shaking, tears and sweat mingling together as they ran down her face, Rey collapsed back into the pilot's chair. _What just happened?  
***_

Pulling her hair back into a ponytail, Rey strode quickly from the landing pad where the _Falcon_ was docked - hidden mostly from sight due to the large, leafy trees obstructing the landing pad. Though the jungle planet of Dxun had not been anyone's first choice for the new hideout of the Resistance, days spent locked together in the small space of the _Falcon_ had proven to be an even less popular choice.

Dxun was a far cry from the weather Rey had grown up with: Wet where Jakku was dry, hot and humid where Jakku had only the blistering sun, the worlds were two extreme temperatures and Rey found herself unsure how to handle Dxun's sticky heat. Her short time on Ahch-To had not been enough for her body to adjust to a world where sudden rain storms were simply a way of life.

Picking her way carefully through the dense vegetation and intermittently swatting at the dozens of bugs swarming her, Rey did her best to keep her thoughts from circling back to her bizarre and painful Force connection with Kylo Ren just hours ago. _No,_ she sternly scolded herself as the seeds of concern that had been planted in her mind began to grow. _I have more pressing matters to think about than the man who wants to murder me and all my friends._

To distract her mind as she trekked through the jungle's undergrowth, Rey allowed herself to pick up where she had left off the night before in counting the number of projects the Resistance still needed to accomplish in order to make their new base more secure. Since landing on Dxun three days prior, the Resistance had set up base within a series of caves. At first, Poe had suggested that they should make camp in a large, crumbling structure marked as being a relic from the Old Republic on their holomap. General Organa had taken one look at location and dismissed the idea, choosing instead the first few caverns in a labyrinth of caves.

Distantly, Rey wondered what the Old Republic had used the structure for and if the building had anything to do with the immense draw of the Force she had felt since stepping foot on Dxun's surface.

By the time Rey reached the entrance to the Resistance's base, the number of projects she had cataloged stretched well over two-dozen.

"Rey!" Startled from her thoughts, Rey glanced up to see Finn waving at her, a broad smile covering his face. "I was about to come looking for you - the meeting's about to start."

Falling in step beside Finn, Rey was content to let her friend lead the way through the caves to the one Poe had dubbed the "War Room."

 _I need to come up with a way to keep him out of my head; I might not be able to fight off...whatever that Darkness was again._ She shuddered involuntarily as phantom pain echoed in her mind.

A gentle weight on her shoulder pulled her back to the present. "...Rey? You alright? You don't look so great -"

"I'm fine," she insisted, shooting her worried friend the flash of a smile as she scooted around him and into the "War Room" beyond. "Really, Finn, no need to worry about me."

Stepping into the cave, Rey's eyes scanned the room: General Organa and Poe, together with the majority of the remaining Resistance fighters, were huddled around the portable holomap from Crait that they had been able to load onto the _Falcon_. Placed on an uneven rock protruding from the middle of the cave floor, the holomap tilted at an awkward angle as it hovered above their heads.

General Organa glanced up, her eyes warming slightly when Finn and Rey walked into the room, "Ah, Rey, good to have you join us."

Rey nodded in response, wary of all of the people staring at her as she approached the holomap. It struck her then how little she knew about most of the remaining Resistance fighters. Outside of Finn and the General, she had just been introduced to Poe and Rose a few days prior and knew very little about anyone else in the room. _You're here because you believe in the cause,_ she reminded herself stubbornly. _Don't waste time thinking about what you might have had - it never would have worked with B-"_

Far too many times that day to count, Rey had to forcibly reel in her thoughts. _I wish I had put more training into learning meditation techniques on Ahch-To._

"Friends," General Organa began somberly, "we have suffered heavy losses these past few weeks. Everyone present has lost dear comrades or family members." Rey imagined she heard the General's voice waver for a briefest moment, no doubt thinking of her recently deceased brother. "Yet, in the midst of all this suffering there is hope."

General Organa paused, stopping to make eye contact with every person assembled, "Hope that we have not fought and bled and lost _so_ much without bringing about some sort of change. We retain our belief that good people, no matter how few in number, can wage war against tyranny. For there is a hope that dwells in all of our hearts: That a better world will be built and all our sacrifices will not have been in vain. In light of this hope, I bring good news..."

Rey felt the world tip beneath her feet. A kaleidoscope of colors burst to life before her eyes.

Her rapidly clouding mind dimly caught onto the General's next words. "Since our escape from Crait, it seems that news of Rey's courageous battle with and defeat of the leader of the First Order has reignited the Resistance's spark. I have already heard from five of our allies' representatives who are willing to rejoin the cause and I expect to hear from more allies within a few days." At the explosion of applause and cheers, the General stopped, the small smile that spread across her face appeared to deage her and wipe away years of heartache. "The Resistance will rise again and all of our efforts will not be wasted. We will survive."

" _It will all be in vain. There is nothing you can do."_ A cold chill swept across Rey's mind, tugging sharply on her Force connection with Kylo Ren.

Images that didn't belong to Rey flashed behind her eyes: A flash of green against bamboo walls; a young girl huddling in fear, bathed in shadows against the corner of an abandoned warehouse; a tall, raven-haired man - the voice in Rey's head whispered the word "friend" - pressing a cold, metal transponder into his hand, swearing unending loyalty.

Darkness reached into her mind, tendrils of bitterness and rage and _fear_ wrapped themselves around her mind, pulling her away from reality in a sudden rush of dizziness.  
***

 _Her lungs were on fire._

 _Specks of purple and blue light floated in front of her closed eyelids._

 _Pressure pushed against her from all sides; right, left, up, no matter which way she struggled the pressure shoved her further down into the watery abyss._

 _Water so cold it burned shoved its way into through her tightly closed lips and scalded her throat. Anxious for air, Rey struck out blindly with her arms and legs, all the while calling out mutely for the Force to lend her its strength in her desperate bid for freedom._

 _But to no avail. The more Rey strained and tried to reach the calming supply of power that normally rested within easy reach, the more she felt the Force pulling away from her, just barely out of grasp._

 _Tingles of numbness spread from the bottoms of her feet up to her chest. She was running out of air._

 _Panic overroad all logic. Struggling harder against the invisible pressure of the murky water, Rey tried forcing her way up to the surface. It felt like she was swimming in a bacta tank, moving but making no progress._

 _Darkness tinged her vision._

 _A sharp, slimy substance brushed against her right leg, it's razor sharp edges tearing into her skin. Legs going numb from the pressure and lack of air, Rey felt her eyes flutter closed as she gave in and let the water drag her down into its depths._

 _A strong, vice-like grip wrapped around her stomach, wrenching her from the shadow monster's clutches and pulling her steadily towards the surface._

 _As soon as her head broke through the surface of the water, Rey's eyes flew open. Water poured from her mouth as she coughed up the gallons she had swallowed._

 _Glancing around, Rey carefully surveyed her surroundings. She was in the middle of a lake the color of fresh mud. Far off to the west, she glimpsed the fuzzy outline of what appeared to be a rocky shore, too far away to swim to in her current state of exhaustion. To the east lay nothing but more of the murky water. Turning to the north, she breathed a sigh of relief to see another shoreline, this one only a few hundred feet away from her current position._

 _As she twisted her body around to look toward the south and gain full awareness of her environment, her senses caught up with her, jogging her memory and reminding her that something - a potentially dangerous something - had pulled her to the surface._

 _Or someone. "Ben," she gasped, feeling somehow more terrified and relaxed at the same time. The moment his name passed through her lips, he released his hold on her and floated a few feet away, as if she was somehow going to attack him when they were both stuck in the middle of a lake. Rey kept her gaze fixed on him, just as wary of him as he appeared to be of her._

" _What are you doing here?" The weariness in his tone surprised her. He looked absolutely drained of energy: Dark circles had formed under his eyes, highlighting the surprise and paranoia evident in his frequent and calculating glances in her direction._

" _I-I don't know," Rey admitted, her voice coming out strangely clear despite how rough her throat ought to have been after swallowing and coughing up copious amounts of water. "Are we in the same place?" She asked, staring at his equally wet hair and clothes._

" _It would appear so," he replied tersely. "But how did you get here? You shouldn't be here."_

" _Trust me," she responded somewhat hotly, "I would rather be anywhere else." The same anger and disappointment that she had come to live with rose up within her; she found it was easier to direct those emotions toward the man in front of her rather than waste time sorting through them when she needed to appear strong in front of her friends._

" _You shouldn't be here," he insisted. His dark eyes bore into her, pleading with her, though pleading about what she had no idea._

" _You keep saying that." Feeling coming back into her legs, Rey moved her arms wildly to try and stay afloat._

 _Kylo Ren glanced at her quizzically, "What are you doing?"_

" _What does it look like?" She snapped, her patience wearing thin, "I'm trying not to drown."_

" _You're expelling too much energy," he noted calmly. "Did you never learn how to swim?"_

" _Swimming isn't exactly a priority when you grow up in the desert," she answered. Looking down at her rapidly moving limbs, Rey realized that he was right and that she would wear herself out if she continued moving around so much._

" _You're struggling too much." The closeness of his voice had Rey pulling her attention from her predicament back the enemy who was now just out of arm's reach. "Move your arms and legs in small circles; you can wade water for a lot longer that way."_

 _Hesitantly, Rey did as he suggested. At first, she worried that slowing her movements would result in her sinking back into the depths of the water, but as the minutes ticked by and she remained above the water's surface, she was relieved to find that her energy reserves diminished much slower than before. "If I wanted to kill you," he said, the barest hint of a smile pulling at his lips, "I would come up with more effective ways than having you drown yourself."_

 _She huffed softly and lifted her eyes back up to meet his. "Is that supposed to be a comforting thought?"_

" _No," he replied, confusion coating his voice, "just stating a fact. Besides," he continued, ignoring the glare she threw his way, "this water isn't even real." At her shocked gasp, he elaborated, "If any of this was actually happening, you would have swallowed far too much water and would either be unconscious or dead right now."_

" _So, if this isn't real, then why are we in the middle of a lake?" Frustration bubbled within her again, "Did you put us here?"_

" _I didn't do this," he insisted, anger evident in his tone. Like the beginnings of a sandstorm, Rey felt his boiling emotions slam into her. Mind and body recoiling at the sudden change of emotional atmosphere, Rey floated back a few feet, subconsciously moving towards the small island she had noticed was to the south of her current location._

 _Thunder boomed across the sky far above them. Clouds swollen with rain blocked out the last remnants of the pale sun. As the first droplets began to fall, Rey felt a gentle tug on her injured leg._

 _Before she could react, the gentle tug turned into the unbreakable grasp of a being much stronger than herself. Panicked thoughts of being pulled under the water again had her struggling with everything she had, trying with all her might to swim toward the small island just feet away._

 _Her vision darkened as fear consumed her. In that moment, Rey knew that this monster would be the thing that killed her - she would fail the Resistance, she would fail her friends and all the people in the galaxy who trusted in her to help save them, and worst of all she would die a completely pathetic death: Killed by an unseen monster in a murky lake that didn't exist, stuck in a Force bond with her greatest enemy._

" _ **You don't have to give in,"**_ _a warm, tempting voice whispered from the depths of the lake._ " _ **Grab hold of the power inside of you; save your friends, save yourself. All it takes is a little dip."**_ _In that moment, the fog that had plagued Rey's mind ever since Finn found her on Jakku and pulled her into a war that went so far past what she had agreed to help with fled from her._ " _ **You can bend the Force to your will,"**_ _the voice promised,_ " _ **no one is in charge of your destiny except you. Take what you deserve."**_

 _She could do anything; be anything. She would no longer be confined to the wishes of others. Elation flooding her mind, Rey reached out and tentatively touched the edge of her connection to the Force. Immediately, power like a raging wildfire crashed into her, threatening to consume her with its intense heat._ " _ **Don't resist,"**_ _the sweet tones sung in her mind; power coursed through her veins, leaving her hungry for more. All she had to do was reach the island._

 _Rey's hand stretched out in response to the power humming through her body:_ " _ **No one can hold you back, take control -"**_

 _A cold, clammy hand latched onto her outstretched arm. A familiar tug in the back of her mind pulled her harshly from the comforting glow of raw, untamed power. "Rey." Snapping back to reality, Rey found herself staring into the uncharacteristically concerned eyes of Kylo Ren. The fog seeped back over her mind, closing her off to the power she had just bathed in._

 _An aching loneliness swept over her at the dulling of her Force sensitivity. "Why did you stop me?" She demanded, anger roaring to life inside of her much faster than before. "I was so close! I could feel it," she murmured, softer._

" _It was consuming you," he muttered, still holding tightly onto her arm as if he thought she would be swept away if he let go._

 _She shook her head, pulling herself from his grasp. "No, that's not true. I was using it. I felt so -"_

" _Powerful?" He supplied, concern still evident in his voice. "That's what you felt: Power."_

 _Beneath the swirling waves, Rey felt the unmistakable brush of temptation rising back up to reach her. She glanced down longingly. "Why are you trying to keep me from my destiny?" She asked, sorrow coating her words._

" _Destiny?" He repeated with a harsh, barking laugh. "Being consumed by power is hardly your destiny."_

" _It wouldn't consume me," she argued hotly, "I wouldn't allow it." Setting her jaw stubbornly, Rey turned her face away to block out the confusing picture of her enemy being concerned for her wellbeing. Sweeping her hand slowly under the water, she willed the warmth to return to her, calling it up from the depths as she moved closer to the rocky outcrop._

" _Rey," Kylo warned, "don't do this."_

" _What I do is not up to you," she retorted. "You made it clear that you had no wish to help me when you refused to call off the attack on the Resistance ships and save my friends." If the twinge of anger she felt through their Force bond was any indication, Rey knew she had touched upon a raw wound. Instead of feeling guilty for causing harm, however, Rey simply felt a sense of pride that she could still get under his skin so easily._

 _Heat flared along her fingertips. Reaching out, Rey grazed the edge of the island with her bare hands, trying with all her strength to pull the warmth deep inside her where it could never diminish._

 _Just as the heat began spreading across her mind, Rey felt her connection with the sweet sensation snap as her body was shoved out of the way. Alarmed, Rey tried to push back, but found herself unable to move. Fog once more covered her brain, sweeping away the temptation she had just been overwhelmed by moments before._

 _Disbelief at the sight in front of her had her blinking in confusion. Standing on the rocky island she had tried so desperately to reach, clothes suddenly dry, was Kylo Ren. Confusion settled within her at the realization that she was suddenly standing on a piece of solid ground that was almost level with the island. But what caught her attention the most was the thick, swirling cloud of darkness obscuring the majority of the island Kylo was standing on._

 _Heat flickered from the shadow, casting its sparks onto her bare arms. "What's going on?" She asked, unable to keep the fear and uncertainty from her voice._

 _Tendrils of heat and shadow wrapped themselves around the form of her enemy. Pain radiated from him through their bond, though he did not so much as flinch as the shadow crept closer, pressing in from all sides. "You shouldn't have come here, Rey." His voice was so soft that Rey had to strain to catch his words above the thunder booming closer. "It isn't safe for you."_

" _Safe? What are you talking about?" Worry blossomed to life within her chest as the shadow drew ever closer, threatening to envelop Kylo Ren completely._

 _He shook his head sadly, "You wouldn't understand."_

 _Rey felt their connection start to wither seconds before her vision darkened. The last thing she saw was the deep, dark shadow of fire seep into the slumped, defeated form of Ben Solo.  
***_

 _A/N: Thank you to everyone who has read, followed, and favorited this story so far! Please remember to leave a review if you like the story and I'll try my best to update more frequently._


	3. Chapter 3: Madness Descending

Broken shards of glass glistened ominously under the harsh, orange glow cast by the overhead fluorescent lights. Scattered haphazardly across the carpet, the remnants of the room's one mirror would serve as a warning signal should anyone dare cross the door's threshold.

Sitting cross-legged in the middle of the room, the last concern on Kylo Ren's mind was that any of his officers would be foolish enough to disturb him.

 _No, they're all getting exactly what they desire._ The realization nagged at him, but he could barely summon the energy to care what took place on the Bridge when he was absent, as long as his orders were still followed without hesitation.

"As you sit here moping, your adversaries seize control." Kylo Ren didn't even bother to raise his head to look as the sinister form of his former master appeared, glowering down at him in disdain. "Pathetic."

Kylo slammed his hands on the floor at the mocking tone, savoring the fresh waves of pain as splinters of glass tore through his palms, staining the carpet red.

For the past week, ever since his last real conversation with Rey - if saving her from drowning multiple times and arguing over nothing could rightly be called a conversation - Snoke's ghost form had rarely left his side.

The constant litany of "traitor" and "failure" had quickly worn out his overtaxed mind. In private, these mostly one-sided conversations with his dead master were easier to handle.

But more than once already he had lost control in front of the soldiers - _his_ soldiers. He knew from their frightened expressions that rumors were circulating as to his mental stability.

His most ill-timed outburst to date had occurred earlier that day on the Bridge, surrounded by all of the highest-ranking members of the First Order who tried their best to appear unaffected, contrasted by an incredibly smug General Hux. One moment Kylo Ren had been listening to Captain Phasma - who had somehow, once again, survived being blown up and tossed over the side of a gaping hole in the floor - report the latest failures of her scouts who were out searching for Resistance forces, and the next moment he was screaming furiously at what his officers saw as nothing but air.

Utterly humiliated, he had fixed General Hux with a glare intense enough to wipe the smug grin off his face before storming from the room with an excessive show of power. Maintenance would fashion new doors for the Bridge by morning, replacing the ones he had torn from their hinges with the Force.

Now, sitting on the floor of his room and obstinately fighting the urge to unleash his pent-up frustration on a transparent being who could not possibly be injured, Kylo Ren was forced to admit to himself that he was quickly becoming unhinged. More so than normal anyway.

"Do you think you can ignore my presence?" His master spoke again, the condescending tone grating on Kylo's nerves.

"Just leave me alone," Kylo responded. This time, he didn't bother hiding his weariness. Though he was uncertain how much power a Force ghost actually possessed, he was confident that no act of indifference or show of strength would persuade Snoke to believe that his presence was not, in fact, tearing Kylo apart.

Piece by piece, just like the mirror that lay shattered all around him.

"Ah, did you imagine that I would abandon you once I died?" A chill ran down Kylo's spine as phantom fingers curled under his chin, forcing his head to rise to meet his master's gaze. Appearing much as he had in life, the only noticeable differences in the Supreme Leader's countenance in death were his lack of a physical body and the eerie red glow that highlighted his spectral figure.

Staring into his master's cold, cruel eyes, Kylo Ren found he couldn't move. Conflicting emotions stirred within him: Fear, shame, relief. "Even now, you do not fight me." Even though Kylo knew it was impossible, he felt the grip on his jaw tighten. "What compelled you to betray me?" Panicking, he tried averting his eyes and freeing himself, but no matter how hard he thought to struggle, his body would not react. "Was it the girl?"

"No." The lie passed through his lips before he could think of an explanation to cover, to somehow turn Snoke's thoughts away from Rey. A vision of her being tortured sprung to life before his eyes. Even in death, he knew his master would find a way to hurt Rey again. He would not allow that to happen. Not after everything he had thrown away just to save that sentimental girl's life.

"Do you care for her?" A sound like grinding nails sounded deep in the Supreme Leader's thoat. Chuckle increasing in volume, Snoke released his grip.

The second lie refused to be uttered. Not knowing how else to respond, Kylo looked down at the glass mingling with the blood flowing from his torn palms. Beyond guilt, he had no idea what he felt toward the girl who so desperately wanted to follow along in the footsteps of the Jedi; she had no idea that what she was searching for were merely false teachings.

"What did you think would happen once I was dead, my foolish apprentice?" Kylo lacked a response to that question, as well. For a brief moment, he had thought that Rey would stay with him; he had imagined that they would be free from oppressive authority together.

Disappointment coated his master's words, "I had such high expectations when you first came to me, demanding knowledge and power. And now look at you, abandoning every lesson I drilled into you head. All for some lowly scavenger."

Pain and anger fueling him, Kylo struggled to his feet, ignoring the fragments of glass that cut through his clothing. Summoning strength he hadn't realized he possessed, he freed his lightsaber from its hook on his belt, igniting the crimson blade. "Get out of my head!" He demanded sharply.

Snoke shook his head tauntingly, the transparency of his body blurring the movement. "Do you think she will return for you?" That slow grin twisted his face, the smile that always indicated the next lesson was going to be an especially painful one. "Everyone has fled from you." Unconcerned with the lightsaber humming inches from his face, Snoke stepped closer. "No matter how much you fight it, you were destined to follow the path of the Dark Side. All alone."

Scream tearing from his lips, Kylo Ren stepped forward, slashing and hacking at the space his master occupied from beyond the grave.

Laughter echoing through the caverns of his mind, the ghost faded away. "You have always been drawn to the darkness, since the very first moment you embraced the Force."

Chest heaving with exertion, Kylo surveyed the damage and noted with little care that the majority of his chambers had been cleaved apart during his rampage. All that mattered was that he was alone, for the moment.

"I think I would prefer having that arrogant, idiotic Jedi haunting me like he promised," he muttered. "At least I would enjoy repeatedly killing him."

Deactivating his lightsaber, Kylo mused over Snoke's words. Was leading the First Order his destiny? Did he even want the responsibility? Did he have a choice?

 _It doesn't matter if I want it or not, the power is mine now and I have to hold onto it. Power is the only thing I have left._

 _But keeping Hux and those other vultures occupied and docile is going to be impossible with Snoke showing up at the worst possible moments._ Power struggles were hard enough without having to factor in deceased Supreme Leaders who refused to mind their own business.

"What is the point in killing people if they keep coming back? Dead people need to stay dead." He commanded; absently wondering if Snoke could even still hear him or if he was talking to himself again. _I'm officially going to be crazy. And no one is going to consider me a leader - not even the most idiotic of stormtroopers - if they seriously start questioning whether I'm sane or not._

Just days ago, he had been occupied with trying to keep Rey out of his head and now he had two people - two incredibly different people with conflicting values - pulling constantly at his mind. Both of them drove him crazy.

Rey puzzled him. Everything she did, she claimed to do in defense of others. As if she alone was responsible for protecting the galaxy. But hadn't all of this been thrust upon her, all because she had been in the wrong place at the wrong time and had, for some unfathomable reason, elected to aid the Resistance? General Organa probably had something to do with Rey's newfound drive to help the Resistance succeed - that woman had always possessed an irritating knack for convincing people to pursue things they had no interest in, no matter the cost.

Until they had been connected through the Force, Kylo Ren had assumed that Rey was simply another puppet of the Resistance whom their cold-hearted general would throw away without a second's hesitation. He knew first-hand what happened to people who refused to fall in line with Leia Organa's plans. Siblings were similar in that way, he supposed.

What he hadn't expected to learn was that the majority of Rey's passion and drive came from her own convictions; the Resistance merely served as a way to funnel those attributes. It seemed that Rey legitamently cared what happened to her friends.

He had found himself eager to please her, wondering if she could be persuaded to care about the man who was supposed to be her enemy. Though the brief capability of Rey's care for him had diminished as he stood in shock over his master's body, unable to make any further move to assist even though saving friends was all Rey cared about, he had been unsuccessful in shutting off the raging protectiveness he felt whenever his mind wandered to think of her. Puzzling indeed.

His master dredged up memories of inadequacy: All the times he had failed to live up to the expectations piled upon him, in his current life and the last. Knowledge was all he had craved, some little understanding that would explain the turbulence he felt unbalancing his mind and tearing his heart to shreds. Snoke had taken full advantage of his naivety.

As deeply as he wanted to find a way to contact Rey, to try and explain why he could not help her - though he wanted to, oh how he desperately wanted to - communicating with her right now was too unsafe. At any moment, Snoke could reappear. If he truly had formed their connection in the first place, it was possible that Snoke could infiltrate…

Kylo shook his head, abandoning that line of thought. _I'll die before I let Snoke anywhere near Rey's mind again._

The intensity of the thought froze him in place. _Would I really die for her? What purpose would that serve? I need to train her so she doesn't get herself killed, not die protecting her._

Hooking his lightsaber back onto his belt, his fingers brushed the small, metal object that he kept stashed on his person at all times.

"I'm not alone," he reminded himself. A genuine smile lifted the corners of his mouth as he thought back to Rey's confident assertion from a few weeks earlier. "Since the beginning, I've never been alone."

Maybe he was stuck on a downward spiral of death of destruction, but that didn't mean Rey had to be. On the off chance that his multiple visions of Rey embracing the darkness were accurate, Kylo knew he had to do everything in his power to change the direction of those visions entirely. Rey would not be the same person - full of hope and optimism - if she fell to the Dark Side: He certainly wasn't.

Lifting the transponder, Kylo sent out a brief, encoded message to the one person who had repeatedly proven their loyalty: the only person he knew he could always trust.

Basking in the tumultuous mixture of emotions washing over him, Kylo Ren decided then that he would do it all: Bring the First Order under his control and save Rey, even if the entire galaxy was against him.

The ratio of Light and Dark shifted deep within his fractured soul.  
***

 _A/N: Thank you to everyone who has read and followed so far. Please leave a review and let me know what you think._

 _As readers, would you rather have shorter chapters and I update more frequently or longer chapters that take longer to upload?_


	4. Chapter 4: Changing Tides

Nervous energy pumped through Rey's veins as she tried to stand as still as possible under the scrutinizing gaze of General Organa. Explaining to the general of the Resistance that Rey was bonded through the Force to the current leader of the First Order, who just so happened to be Leia's son, had been one of the most embarrassing conversations Rey had ever been part of. Of course, it had not helped matters that Rey had kept silent about the bond. Now it probably looked like she had something to hide. A few days had passed since the general's original questioning and each day that passed without the topic being broached again left Rey feeling anxious.

It was impossible to tell what Leia was thinking behind her mask of indifference. When the general had first confronted Rey while she was recovering from her latest trip down vision lane, Rey had tried to deny the accusation, caught up as she was in confusion over how Leia had even figured out to straight up ask if Rey had a connection with the general's son.

Rey's confusion had quickly shifted to a shameful blush that bloomed across her cheeks once Leia explained, in a patient and yet stoic tone, that Rey had been mumbling Ben's name while she was partially unconscious. Thankfully, as no one else in the Resistance besides Chewy knew about the familiar ties between the Resistance and First Order, Leia had confronted Rey alone. For that, Rey was grateful. As it was, she had no idea how she was going to come up with an explanation for why she had passed out in the middle of a battle meeting. It would have been even worse if she had to explain to Poe and Finn and Rose why she was communicating with their enemy.

"I know this looks bad," Rey began, unable to stand the silent tension any longer. "But really, I just didn't want to worry anyone. It's not a big deal." If the raised eyebrow and unconvinced look on the general's face was anything to go by, Rey knew she needed to think of something else to say. Fast.

"Does this happen often?" Leia questioned before Rey could come up with a better excuse as to why she had kept her weird relationship with the new Supreme Leader quiet.

"Um," Rey paused, not sure how to respond. "It's only happened a few times since Crait." She admitted, fully aware that Leia was waiting for more of an explanation. "I never know when it's going to happen until it does."

"And what is causing this to happen? Is he doing this to you?" The slight undertone of anger in Leia's voice surprised Rey immensely. The general didn't get angry; maybe occasionally filled with righteous indignation, but not anger.

"No!" Rey blurted out, feeling suddenly burdened to not let the blame for their connection rest on Ben - Kylo Ren, whatever she should call him. "At least, I really don't think so. Snoke said that he connected us so I'm not entirely sure why it's still happening now that he's dead."

The general turned her eyes to the cave wall behind Rey's head, searching the stones intently as if they held answers. "But this connection is hurting you if what I witnessed in the War Room a few days ago is any indication."

Her pain wasn't the issue. "Well, sometimes, but-"

Leia interjected, speaking over Rey as if she had not heard her speak. "Maybe he did not cause this connection, but it seems that he is using it to bring injury to you. Any injury you suffer, the Resistance suffers. We cannot allow this to continue."

The general's refusal to even speak her son's name set Rey on edge. What had happened to bring this rift between the two of them? To an extent, Rey felt herself feeling empathetic to Kylo's split with his uncle, though she would never admit that to him for fear it sounded too much like she was excusing the terrible things he had done. "No," she said again. "The pain I'm feeling, it's not actually hurting me." Rey racked her brain to come up with a way to explain, "It's more like a phantom pain."

Leia continued looking unconvinced so Rey threw all caution aside and gave voice to her suspicions. "I think the pain I'm feeling doesn't belong to me. Our connection sometimes lets us feel what the other is feeling. So whatever this pain is, it's coming from Ben. Something is hurting him and he seems to be trying to block me from the worst of it because he keeps pushing me out whenever we're connected, but it must be overwhelming him since some of his pain keeps transferring over to me."

Rey breathed in deeply, hoping that her explanation didn't sound crazy. "Our last conversation felt more like a shared vision of some sort: We were in this lake and there was this strange cloud-like substance that kept pulling me under water. But," Rey noted with a touch of fondness in her voice, "every time I felt like I was drowning, Ben pulled me back up. He kept saying that it wasn't safe for me to be there and that I needed to leave. I don't really know what he was talking about. Nothing seemed dangerous until this swirling, black vortex of heat came out of nowhere and wrapped around him. Then I woke up." _She has to understand,_ Rey thought desperately. _Ben isn't hurting me; something is hurting him and I need to help stop it._

"Did it speak to you, this cloud?" A soft voice asked from directly behind Rey.

Barely registering the look of shock on Leia's face, Rey turned around, completely unprepared to see a fuzzy, blue-tinged Luke Skywalker standing there, a strange mixture of glee and sadness splayed across his features. Instead of the scruffy, grumpy looking man she had encountered in life, the man before her appeared well-kept and steady, though still the same age she remembered.

"Wha-How," she sputtered, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"Force ghost," Luke stated by way of explanation, gesturing to his blurry outline. "It's a Jedi thing." Ignoring the look of shock that Rey feared would be now permanently etched onto her face, Luke turned his gaze to his sister. "I don't think I have much time so we should quickly move past this phase of utter surprise and get to the important stuff."

Turning his attention back to Rey, he shot her a quick look of mock disapproval at her still shell-shocked expression. "The cloud you saw, did it try to speak to you at all? Maybe try and tempt you with something?

Gathering her bearings slightly, Rey gulped and nodded. How had Master Luke known about what the voice had told her?

Ghost Luke looked thoughtful. "That's what I thought."

"But what does it mean?" Rey implored. This whole not knowing was driving her crazy.

"What you felt, that was likely the pull of the dark side." On the surface, Luke's tone sounded calm and even a bit comforting, but Rey thought she heard a twinge of unease slip through. "I believe my sister is correct; we need to find a way to sever this bond once and for all. Though," he mused, "if Snoke actually had the power to bind you two together in the first place, your connection should have snapped the moment he was killed."

"Then why hasn't it?" Leia questioned, her voice not betraying any surprise at seeing her brother from beyond the grave.

"Good question." Luke turned to Rey questioningly, "How did Snoke die, exactly? Perhaps knowing the details of his death will shed light on the situation."

"Uh," Rey averted her eyes from the siblings as they both waited eagerly for her response. Until this moment, no one had really asked her _how_ the former Supreme Leader had been killed as everyone was simply excited that he was dead. Rey had been more than happy to pretend that she had somehow killed Snoke by herself, as that pretense exempted her from having to explain her connection with Ben. But now she was stuck in a room with the only two people besides herself and Ben who knew about the connection and she was watching her lie unravel.

"I didn't kill him," she muttered, focusing her eyes on a small crack in the ground that tiny bugs were crawling in and out of. "Ben did," she admitted, not wanting to see the emotions playing out on her leaders' faces at the news. _I keep calling him that. But that's who saved me, isn't it? For just a few minutes, he put that ridiculous persona aside and became himself again._

"He did what?" The surprise in Leia's voice was unnerving. Did she really believe that her son was so far gone that him actually helping Rey was so doubtful?

"Ben killed Snoke." She repeated, eyes shooting up from the floor to sternly meet the befuddled expressions of Luke and Leia. _Two people who failed him. Just like I did._ "Snoke was torturing me, probing my mind trying to learn things - trying to find out where _you_ were." Rey pointed a finger in Luke's direction before continuing. "I guess he found out what he wanted to know because then he told Ben to kill me. The whole time I was being tortured, Ben just knelt there, watching." A small shudder crept down Rey's spine as she thought back to how calm he had been, how certain she was the he was going to kill her just as easily as he had murdered Han.

"I thought he would," she confessed, not wanting to share how terrified she had felt as that crimson blade ignited before her eyes. "But he didn't." _Why did he let me live?_ "I ended up on the ground somehow; I think he might have pushed me out of the way. The next thing I really remember was looking up and seeing the determination on Ben's face as he cut his master in half."

For a long moment, no one spoke. As the silence wore on, Rey became less and less certain that sharing what had happened in the throne room that night had actually been the wisest decision. What if they thought she was lying? But surely no one had actually bought that she killed the Supreme Leader all by herself? Yes, she had come a long way in the past few weeks from the lone scavenger girl that Finn had found on Jakku, but she was hardly a trained Jedi.

Finally, Leia broke the stifling silence. "I don't understand." Rey looked at her, noting with sympathy and a bit of gladness the wetness welling up in the older woman's eyes. _So she does still care._ "If he killed Snoke," her words were shaky, so unlike the composed general Rey was used to seeing, "then why hasn't my son come home?"

Luke spoke up softly, "Because that's not the end of the story. Is it, Rey?" His voice strained as he tried to keep his emotions in check. His gaze shifted and Rey realized he was being careful not to look his sister in the eye.

How had she been drawn into all of this family drama? "No, it isn't." Wary of Luke's wearied expression, Rey slowly and carefully detailed how she and Ben - mostly Ben - had fought together and killed Snoke's guards - Ben had given the guards a proper title but she couldn't remember what it was. She kept her emotions out of the story, trying to ignore how _right_ it had felt fighting together; how nice it had been to depend on another person, knowing that they wouldn't let you fall. For selfish reasons she didn't even know how to begin describing, Rey kept the retelling of her argument with Ben brief, merely explaining that they had divisive opinions and had realized that being on the same side was impossible.

Guilt and shame kept her from bringing up the broken lightsaber that she kept stashed under a loose floorboard on the _Falcon_.

Based on the not extremely favorable reactions she had received by telling the story so far, Rey felt it was a smart idea not to mention that Ben had tried to persuade her to rule the galaxy with him. That seemed like a tidbit of information best kept to herself for the time being.

"He remains lost, then." Leia stated reservedly, all trace of sadness chased away by the stoic calmness now resting on her face. _So that's where Ben learned how to look so calm under pressure._

That sick pressure built in Rey's stomach again. How could a woman who constantly brought ordinary folks to rally under a banner of rebellion have so little faith in her own son? "I think you're wrong about him." She insisted, her voice strong as she faced Luke. "Both of you are wrong about him."

Oddly, Leia didn't respond.

"I wish I were." Ghost Luke replied, seemingly unfazed at being called out by his former - current? - student. "I would love to be wrong about him. But I'm not."

Anger bubbled up in Rey at how quickly Luke was willing to dismiss all evidence pointing to the fact that _his own nephew_ was not, in fact, too far gone to save.

He continued, undeterred by her raging emotions. "I know what I saw in him, Rey. You saw it, too, in that latest vision you had." Luke paused, searching her eyes. "I know you want to believe that there's still good in him, but the darkness you felt pulling you down belongs to him."

Desperate to do something with her nervous energy, Rey began pacing. "You're wrong," she muttered under her breath. "I know what Ben's power feels like and this darkness wasn't him." Frustration tore at her mind. The answer seemed so close, so obvious, but she couldn't quite place it.

"Rey," Luke began.

An idea sparked to life in Rey's mind as her eye caught the blurry outline of her master. "Wait. Is it possible for people who use the dark side to be Force ghosts, too?"

Luke hesitated. "I've never heard of such a thing happening...Why?"

 _That seems unfair._ "Because I know what I felt." Rey stopped pacing, her back to the siblings. "It was Snoke. Somehow-somehow he's still around. Maybe he's talking to Ben like you're talking to me." Ignoring the words Luke was sputtering behind her, Rey continued. "That would explain it all. Snoke would be angry that Ben killed him so he's hurting him and I can feel it because we're connected. Right?" She spun around on the balls of her feet, expecting to be congratulated for her reasoning skills.

Instead, she was distressed to find both her master and the general of the Resistance staring at her with unreadable expressions.

"I highly doubt that." At least Luke had the presence of mind to look slightly apologetic as the words slipped from his tongue. "I've seen the darkness in him, Rey: It's immense and nearly impossible to control. There isn't anything else you can do for him." he insisted patiently.

"So I should just give up?" She snapped. "Like you did when you thought about killing him?"

If ghosts could pale, Luke did. "That's not-"

"You told me," Rey continued, anger coating her words, "that you considering killing Ben that night he burned your temple down. You said you had your lightsaber out, that you were ready to strike-"

Luke's blurry form flickered. "Yes, I did consider it. But I didn't actually try, I thought better -"

"You did what?" The eerily cold voice of General Leia Organa halted the intense staring contest taking place between master and student.

Rey's eyes danced between brother and sister. _She didn't know? How could she not have known?_

"What did you do, Luke?" Leia demanded, staring intently at the quickly fading form of Luke Skywalker.

Weariness and guilt flashed across his face. Luke opened his mouth to respond, but his form disappeared from view before whatever words he had planned on saying had taken on a verbal quality.

 _That's convenient,_ Rey noted as she looked at the place her master had been floating seconds prior.  
***

The sweltering humidity of Dxun's surface proved more favorable than the suffocating tension inside the cave base. Rey breathed a sigh of relief the moment she was out of sight from the base's entrance. After the whirlwind of emotions she had just experienced, it was a nice change to be away from all the people crowding each other in the caves.

Thankfully, the general had not expected any further answers from Rey and had quickly excused herself from the cave's room once Luke had vanished.

 _How do you keep that kind of secret from someone?_ Rey wondered as she determinedly pushed her way through the thick underbrush on her way to check on the _Falcon_. _How do you turn away from family so easily?_

 _If I had a family, I would never give up on them, no matter what they did._ She thought of Finn, of his hearty laugh and the way he could raise her spirits even during the worst times. He knew what it was like to feel trapped in a life that you hadn't chosen. And yet, somehow, he always had a broad smile on his face and stuck by her side even when the odds were stacked against them. She thought of Poe, the brave fighter pilot who, according to Finn, was fearless and reckless to the extreme. She thought of Rose, the young woman who had saved Finn's life and helped bash some sense into his head when he felt like running.

They were all misfits. They had all committed crimes. So why did they all get second chances when Ben was left on his own?

Sweat and blood mingled together, sliding down her arm from where the sharp vines had cut her bare skin. Unconcerned, she pushed on. Heat pressed in on her from all sides, drawing her mind back to the tempting warmth of the creature in the lake. It couldn't really be the darkness that Luke suggested, she would have been able to tell. _But,_ she mused, _Ben was worried. Why would he be worried about the darkness, though? And why would he be worried about me?_

Some answers didn't come easily. Maybe life was just unfair. Maybe not everyone got the second chance that they deserved.

Maybe some people couldn't be saved.

A shadow crossed the rough path in front of Rey. As a precaution, she reached down to her hip to retrieve her blaster. Only to realize she had left it on her bunk that morning. She was alone in the jungle. Alone and unarmed.

Panicked, Rey closed her eyes and tried to remember the lessons Luke had taught her. Though few in number and hardly detailed enough for her to use to fight, they just might be able to keep her alive.

Calling on the Force as normal, Rey dipped into the Light energy she felt pooled within her. The coolness washed over her aching limbs, chasing the tiredness from her mind.

"You're the new Jedi." A distinctly feminine voice remarked from off to Rey's left.

Eyes snapping open, Rey raised her hands, ready to fight.

A woman a few years older than herself stood a few feet away. Hair the color of sand basking in the sun hung off to the side of her head in a single, tight braid. Piercing dark blue eyes stuck out like beacons from the woman's pale skin. She was clothed in form-fitting, light grey leather armour; a cloak the color of ash lay draped over one shoulder. Quickly, Rey's eyes were drawn to the two lightsabers hanging from the woman's thin belt, one on each side, ready to be drawn at a moment's notice.

"Who are you?" Rey demanded. She felt the stagnant strength of the Force coursing through this strange woman's veins and it frightened her. _Master Luke claimed he was the last Jedi. Was he wrong? Or lying?_

The woman raised her hands placidly, careful to keep her distance from the lightsabers on her belt. "My name is Anya Dineyia, young Jedi, and I was sent here to teach you the ways of the Force."  
***

 _A/N: Thank you for reading!_


	5. Chapter 5: Mutiny

His public outbursts were becoming common knowledge among even the lowest ranking soldiers in the First Order. Until now, hearing the whispered remarks made behind his back and seeing the uneasy glances sent his way when he was deemed too preoccupied to notice, Kylo Ren had never given much thought to just how often fear of Supreme Leader Snoke had kept anyone from taking action against his volatile apprentice. Danger lay in every sideways glance, in every slight hesitation before his orders were carried out. No mutiny had yet been instigated, though Kylo knew it was only a matter of time.

Tension among the First Order had never been higher. But neither had the cost of failure. If he failed now, if he allowed Snoke's constant beratings to drive him further over the edge of insanity, he would be left with little power and authority with which to keep Rey safe.

For now, Kylo could only hope that fear of his unpredictable temper and ignorance of the Force would keep anyone from striking out. If assassination attempts were made, he would, in turn, make an example of the instigators, leaving their mangled corpses to rot for all to view.

A full-blown mutiny, on the other hand, would be impossible to combat. And no one under Kylo Ren's command knew that better than General Hux. It was possible the general had a sixth sense for he always seemed to know when Kylo was going against his precious protocol. If murdering the former Supreme Leader and allowing the First Order's greatest enemy to roam free wasn't a breach in protocol, then nothing was.

Standing near the far wall, as close as he could get to the doorway without appearing conspicuous, the new Supreme Leader did his best to keep every possible suspect within eyesight. Abandoning the head chair normally reserved for Snoke - for himself now, he mentally corrected - had been a gamble. A few of the head officers had shifted on their feet, poorly hiding their displeasure at the sudden change in tradition. But as long as Kylo paced every now and again, his officers merely assumed his restless energy to be the cause for his blatant disregard for their sense of normalcy.

So far, the day's meeting had run smoothly. Though news of Snoke's death had traveled quickly throughout the galaxy, the majority of the First Order's power remained intact. A few planets on the Outer Rim had jumped ship, preferring to side with the slowly budding Resistance rather than keep their lowly status within the First Order's list of assets. A few thousand, poorly trained soldiers had been lost with those planets' defection to the Resistance - a number so slight that Kylo Ren would hardly lose sleep over their betrayal.

Betrayal: The one word that summed up his entire existence.

"Any loss of power is unacceptable." Unwittingly, a chill ran down Kylo's spine at the words. Stubbornness rose within him and he refused to turn and confront his master. Not now. Not in front of everyone. Not again.

"Any word on the Resistance fighters?" He asked instead, keeping his voice as monotonous as possible. _Please say "no". Tell me you have not found her._

Silence met his question. _Silence is good, it means they have not discovered her location._

"You would trade the safety of one weak-minded girl for the entirety of the power you ought to be embodying." Snoke scoffed from behind Kylo's back. "What purpose did you slay me for, fool boy? Surely you have grander plans than running away from the meager numbers of your enemy."

At his sides, Kylo's gloved hands formed tightly-balled fists. His anger was evident to the officers assembled. Kylo bit back the laughter that bubbled up inside his throat at the relief he felt that only his deceased master knew the true reason behind his anger. How ironic his circumstances had become.

"Then perhaps," he ground out, barely keeping his conflicting emotions in check long enough to form the necessary words, "our resources would be better spent elsewhere."

"Is it wise to give up our pursuit so soon, Supreme Leader?" General Hux questioned, staring intently at the holomap projected above the conference table. As usual, there was no blatant tone of disrespect evident in the general's words. Still, Kylo had spent enough time around the man to know when he was displeased.

"We are not 'giving up,' General," Kylo responded, frustration cloaking his words. "We simply have far more important matters to attend to besides a small band of rebel fighters."

"You're running away from an untrained girl without a lightsaber? Pathetic." His master's words slithered into his mind, unraveling the thin stitches of power Kylo had recently used to hold himself together.

"I am not running!" The words tore from his throat faster than he could think. With only a small tug of resistance, the remaining stitches of power disintegrated, leaving his mind wholly undefended.

Movement on his left caught Kylo's attention. "Sir," one of the senior Bridge officers began. The officer's comment never made itself known as the man's neck audibly snapped from the sudden, suffocating pressure that swung the officer's head to the side, leaving his body facing forward.

Darkness flooded Kylo's vision. Heat flickered around the corners of his injured mind, greedily lapping up his remaining strength. The Force might hold an uncountable amount of power that could never hoped to be drained, but even the most powerful Force users reached their limits.

 _And this is my limit._ His mind was a decrepit thing now. Where once he had been filled with an insatiable thirst for knowledge, he now felt hollow: Knowing both far too much and far too little about the mysterious ways of the Force.

There had been a time where he would have done anything - _had done anything_ \- for the tiniest portion of an answer to the questions which haunted him day and night. Why had the Republic crumbled so easily? Did the Jedi of old know that their precious rules were riddled with contradictions? Who could actually judge right from wrong? Was there really such a thing as Light and Dark? Didn't both sides of a coin simply come together to create a coin: Why needlessly separate the two down a divide of 'good' and 'evil'?

None of his questions had ever been favorably received. No matter who he asked, from one side of the spectrum to the other, no one had any of the answers he sought.

Now there were no questions. Now there was only confusion and pain.

So much pain.

"You do realize I can hear every wretched thought of yours, yes?" The echoing, mocking laughter had Kylo Ren reaching for his lightsaber. If Snoke was going to insist on providing commentary during every moment for the rest of Kylo's life, then he was damn sure going to spend the rest of his days hacking that smirk right off his master's face.

His fingers brushed roughly against the cold metal of his lightsaber's handle.

"Maybe you should just cut them all down here and now." The ghostly form of his master inclined his head towards the officers standing in shock around the room, staring at their new leader with a strange mixture of fear and barely disguised loathing.

The darkness in him rose, coiling tightly around his fractured soul. _Maybe I should. Everyone is expendable._

"Clear the room!" An authoritative voice from outside his mind ordered, briefly shocking Kylo out of his thoughts. "And someone get rid of the body; I won't have a rotting corpse fouling the meeting room."

As every officer scattered to do as the voice commanded, Kylo remained where he was, still internally debating the benefits of committing mass murder of his own crew. Captain Phasma was the last to leave, unceremoniously dragging the dead officer through the door, most likely to the incineration chambers.

As the door slid closed behind Captain Phasma, Kylo's hand twitched over his lightsaber, mind going blank about what he was supposed to do now that his possible targets had fled the room.

"Is it too much to ask that we go one day without you screaming at the air?" An overly-exaggerated, exasperated sigh reached Kylo's ears and he looked up, surprised to see General Hux still standing there, completely unafraid.

Mind running on fumes, Kylo found that he wasn't quite certain how to respond to the comment.

"Apparently not." The general continued, sparing a quick glance to Kylo's hand still firmly wrapped around the hilt of his lightsaber. "If you were going to kill me, you would have done so already, Ren. Now," the man stepped forward and it took all of Kylo's remaining strength to slightly release his tight grip on his blade, "it's becoming more and more clear that the two of us need to have a conversation, one long overdue."

"Please tell me you're going to at least kill _him_ ," Snoke hissed from behind. "All he has ever done is try to undermine you."

Suddenly, doing what Snoke wanted seemed like an incredibly terrible idea. In a bout of stubborness, Kylo released his lightsaber fully, choosing instead to clench his fists together as tightly as possible.

"A conversation about what?" He asked, not bothering to disguise the weariness in his voice. _Not a good sign; never show weakness._

General Hux threw him a critical glance. "Where to begin," he muttered.

Kylo was too exhausted to argue.

The general stared at him thoughtfully with a look that on anyone else's face might be considered "pity." "Your unnatural silence, for one thing." Kylo frowned; this was likely to be a long list. "You've always been rather prone to rather, uh, undignified outbursts, but lately your outbursts have been a bit more, how best to put this, psychotic."

 _I should kill you._

"Yes," the voice whispered in his mind, clearly annoyed, "kill him for _that_."

"Well it clearly wouldn't just be because of this conversation," Kylo remarked, turning his head slightly to glare to his master's blurry, but still present, form.

"Case in point." The general stated, clearing his throat.

None of this back and forth was bringing a shred of sanity back to Kylo's overtaxed brain. "Why are we having this conversation, exactly?" He asked, turning his attention somewhat back to the general.

"Because you are now the Supreme Leader!" General Hux snapped. Pausing a moment to smooth down his already pristinely straight coat hem, he took a calming breath before continuing. "Though I still have no idea how this transfer of power took place," a nagging feeling grew in Kylo's mind as a flash of memory snapped to life in front of his eyes, "you have a duty to the First Order. One which you will fulfill, even if I have to constantly remind you of your place."

A spike of adrenaline rushed to life inside of Kylo Ren. Adrenaline fueled by fear. But he was not afraid, he was far too tired to be afraid.

"Rey." He whispered softly. A brief image clouded his vision: Rey, her skin lightly tanned so the freckles on her face popped, standing in a fighting stance, staring down some form of enemy. _Why does she not have a weapon?_ He wondered with worry upon glancing the girl up and down, spotting no visible weaponry on her person, not even a hunting knife. _Does she have a death wise?_

Her brown hair had been tossed up quickly, the loose portions clung to her sweaty skin. _She's somewhere hot, then. Possibly a jungle moon._ His brain supplied before he remembered that it was dangerous to know her location. As the connection rapidly became more vivid, swallowing the room in front of him, Kylo became distinctly aware of a third presence.

 _Snoke._ He grimaced, quickly pulling his mind away from Rey, though every molecule in his body screamed at him to find a way to help the scavenger. She was afraid. She was in danger. But his prodding would only place her in _more_ danger.

Reluctantly, he reeled his mind back to his own corner of the galaxy.

He groaned in pain as heat laced through his mind. Snoke was not pleased.

"Rey?" A flicker of fear crossed his eyes at _her_ name being spoken aloud by anyone other than him. "Is that the girl who keeps randomly appearing during every semi-important battle we have had with the Resistance lately?" General Hux inquired, a note of interest in his voice.

 _Okay, now I might have to kill him._

"Wasn't she on board when Supreme Leader Snoke was killed?" He asked, clearly already knowing the answer. "And you were there." The general added, quickly putting the pieces together, though Kylo suspected General Hux had already guessed what had transpired that fateful day. "So somehow, you expect me to believe that this girl - who no one had heard of until a few months ago - took out the Supreme Leader, all of his guards, and yourself, yet for some reason she let you live?"

Kylo's right hand moved instinctively towards his lightsaber.

"That story is terrible for morale." General Hux stated, seemingly unconcerned that he might soon be dead. "Then again, so is telling the story of how you helped the Resistance murder your predecessor."

With a click, Kylo unhooked the lightsaber from his belt. "Which is why," the general continued, eyes widening ever so slightly at the weapon being prepared to strike him down, "we will simply have to come up with a different version of events."

Kylo paused, finger hesitating over the lightsaber's ignition switch. "What? This isn't a setup for a mutiny?"

General Hux scoffed, glancing away from the lightsaber hilt in Kylo's hand. "I may think you a wholly incompetent leader and see little value with having you installed as the current Supreme Leader, Ren, but any uprising at the present time would be unwise. The First Order does not need to suffer any further loses."

Clearing his throat again, the general moved closer to the door, leaving Kylo a wide berth. "Undoubtedly, a mutiny of some kind is coming. But not by my hand. Not yet." He eyed Kylo warily, "I suggest you at least try and act sane until then."

Confusion and pain coursed through Kylo Ren's skull, dampening the ever present rage boiling within him. _Has the entire galaxy lost its kriffing mind?_


	6. Chapter 6: Old Friend

Common sense dictated that Rey ought not lead a potentially dangerous, Force-sensitive, lightsaber-toting stranger back to the Resistance's base. But common sense would also have dictated that Rey carry a weapon on her person at all times.

The woman - 'Anya' she called herself - kept in step with Rey as they traveled back to the series of caves, easily ducking underneath overhanging vines as if she had dealt with them all her life. "I understand your reluctance to bring me to the Resistance," Anya spoke in even tones, pushing back a stray lock of sandy hair from her face. "But I assure you, I am no enemy to the Resistance; I know General Organa well."

"You do?" Rey asked, pausing in the middle of the roughly-hewn path to turn and face her companion. "How?"

"My father was a senator," Anya replied, hands resting lightly on her hips. "He and General Organa worked closely together for a number of years - before the war began, of course." Her dark blue eyes flickered across Rey's face, "I understand it is nearly impossible to trust anyone in these uncertain days…" Anya hesitated, long, petite fingers toying with the edges of her lightsaber handles. "If it would make you feel more comfortable -" with a _snap_ the lightsabers released from her belt. Hilt first, Anya held out both sabers to Rey, "You may keep hold of these until you decide I am trustworthy."

Through the Force, Rey felt no inkling of deceit from Anya. Nor could she discern any hints of the rage and violence that constantly leaked through to her from her Force bond with Kylo Ren. This woman seemed to embody calm. It was refreshing. But still Rey felt wary of the woman standing so confidently before her - if there was one lesson Rey had kept to heart all the years of her short life, it was that people were hardly ever what they appeared to be on the surface.

Gingerly reaching out, Rey's hands closed tightly over the cool, metal handles. "You trust me not to use you own lightsabers against you?" She asked, quickly stowing the blades on her own belt in case Anya changed her mind.

"That is your prerogative." Anya responded calmly. "I am here with one singular purpose: To teach you. If you choose not to accept my help, then I will leave."

"You are a very strange person," Rey noted, turning her back on Anya and continuing on through the underbrush. It felt nice to have a lightsaber on her person again, even if the blades did not belong to her. _I suppose the last one didn't either,_ she reminded herself grimly. _That's why it's broken._

Leaves crunched softly behind her as Anya followed.

 _If she's an enemy, then she's a weirdly confident one now that she's unarmed. Who gives up their weapons so freely, anyway?_

"Are you a Jedi?" Rey blurted out, unable to keep the nagging question from being spoken any longer.

"A Jedi?" Anya mused, tone thoughtful. "I suppose you could call me that, if you like."

"What else would you be?" Rey questioned. With every step, they grew closer to the base. Rey needed to be sure, before they arrived, what sort of action should be taken. If Anya was actually a Jedi, if she truly understood the ways of the Light and was willing to teach Rey, then how could Rey resist?

But if this was all somehow a clever ruse - Rey shoved the thought from her mind. Whichever side Anya was on would soon be made clear. If the woman really knew General Organa, as she claimed, than the general would be able to vouch for her.

"That is not a question which I have pondered in many years," came the slow reply.

Rey longed to turn around, to see Anya's face as she answered. The woman's tone was too calm, too collected, for Rey to pick out any telling emotions.

Breaking through the last thin branches, Rey stepped out first into the small clearing directly in front of the Resistance's cavern base. As expected, she could not pick out the sentries on duty, hidden as they were by the thick vines and moss surrounding the cave's entrance. But through the Force, Rey could feel them there, watching.

"Is that you, Rey?" A worried Finn stepped down from one the sentry perches located closest to the cave's entrance. "Did you make it out to the _Falcon_? How's it look?"

"It's me." She responded, pulling the edges of her shirt down to better cover the lightsabers' hilts. "I found someone in the jungle," Rey continued, thumb arched back to point over her shoulder at Anya. "Says she's here to help the Resistance," Rey quickly added upon seeing Finn reach for his blaster.

"You found an ally wandering in the jungle?" He asked, clearly confused.

"My ariship ran out of fuel a few miles back," Anya supplied with a small smile. "I hardly knew the exact location of your base, so it was most providential that I met your friend when I did, else I'd be lost in the jungle for days."

"Uh, right." Finn walked closer, hand still firmly wrapped around his blaster. "Is this some sort of code for 'help'?" He whispered to Rey, glancing cautiously at Anya from the corner of his eye.

"No." Rey whispered back, uneasy laughter spilling out of her lips. _If this had been a code, Finn, why would you ask?_ "We need to see General Organa."

"She's busy-" Finn continued whispering, "you know, doing general-type stuff."

 _Oh, Finn, you're a terrible liar. Quit while you're ahead._

"That is quite alright," Anya spoke up. Brushing lightly at the dirt clinging to her grey tunic, she turned her calm gaze to Finn, "I will gladly wait until she is free."

"Um," Finn stuttered, looking helplessly at Rey for direction.

"It's fine," Rey reassured her friend, patting him gently on the shoulder as she and Anya moved past. "We'll just wait inside."

The cool, damp interior of the caves was a welcome change from the suffocating humidity of the jungle. Rey led the way to the War Room, all the while worriedly chewing on her bottom lip. She had expected some sort of climatic showdown upon returning to base, not the friendly concern of Finn. Maybe Anya was exactly who she claimed to be. So why did that thought leave Rey feeling on edge?

Minutes ticked by slowly as the two women waited just outside the War Room. Rey paced, unable to keep still. Anya had somehow managed to find a sturdy enough stack of crates to perch on. _Is this how Jedi are supposed to act?_ Rey wondered, glancing occasionally over to the woman: Anya rested easily against the ratty crates, unconcerned that the boxes should not have been able to support her weight - as slight of figure as she was.

Perhaps the woman's gentle demeanor was normal for a Jedi. The only other Force-sensitive people Rey had met were not nearly as at peace. An image of patient and calm Anya meeting Kylo Ren in all his unbridled fury flashed into her mind. Choking back a loud laugh at the thought, Rey stopped pacing, unable to get the hilarious image out of her head. If she and Kylo fought over their differences in opinion, she could only imagine the arguments that would break out between two completely opposite people.

"What is so humorous?" Anya questioned, staring with a hint of concern at Rey's doubled-over form.

Suddenly remembering that she was standing directly outside the War Room, Rey straightened, smile still wide. "Just imagining you meeting a friend-" _No! He is absolutely not a "friend."_ "um, a person I know. You're very different." Rey concluded, all traces of laughter wiped away. " _Friend?" What is wrong with me? The guy who keeps trying to kill me and my allies is not my friend._

"I see." Anya replied. Rey wondered what, exactly, it was that Anya had gleaned from Rey's mislabeled term of her enemy.

The low-hanging vines which provided a semblance of privacy between the War Room and storage area where Rey and Anya waited shifted as people began to exit the far room. Poe stalked out, a look of annoyance plastered on his face. _Guess the general shot down another one of his ideas._

Strangely, no one gave Anya a second glance. _They probably think she's just another new recruit._

Rey shoved her way through the crowd. While it was good that the Resistance was growing in number, it made their new base cramped at times.

General Organa was alone in the room when Rey entered. "Did you need something, Rey?" She inquired, not glancing up from the holomap.

Rey nodded nervously. "Yes, actually, I-"

General Organa's head shot up, eyes snapping quickly to the woman standing next to Rey. "Anya Dineyia." A flicker of disbelief crossed the general's face. "Why are you here?" She demanded.

Rey glanced between the two women, feeling the sudden tension permeating the air. "So...you two do know each other?"

Anya stepped forward, hands slightly raised as if in surrender. "General, I swear to you that I am not here to cause any of your people harm."

Leia shifted, a blaster appearing in her right hand. "You'll forgive me for not trusting your word." She responded, voice tight with an emotion Rey did not recognize.

"I come in peace," Anya said, stopping at the edge of the rock the holomap's projector rested on.

"Peace?" Leia questioned, a sharp note of anger slipping through. "Is the First Order with you?"

 _First Order? How could a woman like Anya work for the First Order?_ Warily, Rey's right hand closed over the rough hilt of one of Anya's lightsabers. Unarmed, Rey doubted the woman would stand a chance against both herself and the general, but it was impossible to tell what strength the Force might lend Anya in a fight.

"I have never worked for the First Order." Anya insisted, hands still raised in a gesture of peace. "Nor have I seen your son in many years, in case you next care to accuse me of working alongside him."

Rey's eyes widened in surprise. "You know Ben?" She asked, amazed.

Anya did not turn her eyes away from the blaster in Leia's hand as she answered Rey. "We grew up together."

"Yes, and you and your brother Krillien assisted my son in burning down the Jedi Temple and murdering your fellow classmates." Leia responded, eyes stern.

 _Wait, what?_ Rey froze.

"To be accurate, I never killed anyone." Anya retorted. "It was utter chaos that night; my brother did what was necessary to keep the two of us alive. Yes, we may have made an error in judgement, but scared children hardly consider moral implications in the heat of the moment."

"Why are you here?" The general asked again, seemingly eager to change the topic of conversation.

"I was sorry to learn of Master Skywalker's passing-" Anya began.

"Were you really?" Leia interrupted, ire coating her words.

"Yes, actually." Anya insisted, her calm demeanor slipping ever so slightly. "I never held any ill will toward him; he taught me everything I know." Dropping her hands to rest at her sides, Anya straightened her back, ash-toned cloak spilling around her shoulders. "I am here because I felt Rey's Force awakening. When I learned of Master Skywalker's demise, I felt compelled to come and offer my services."

 _So, did everyone feel something in the Force when I first did? People keep bringing this up._ "But how did you know where to find us?" Rey questioned.

"For the past three years, I have served as a healer for the royal family on Onderon. Since you now reside on one of Onderon's four moons, the distance is not so great that I could not feel your presence." Anya explained patiently. "If you still question my loyalties, General Organa, feel free to speak to your allies on Onderon: they will vouch for me."

With a heavy sigh, Leia lowered her blaster. "You can be sure I will speak to them: Thoroughly."

Anya smiled brightly, "Do I have your permission, then, to instruct Rey?"

"I don't see where we have much choice in the matter," Leia answered, holstering her gun. "Luke did not have much time to teach her before he died."

"Whatever did happen to Master Skywalker after the Temple fell?" Anya inquired, arms crossed lightly across her chest.

"He was a grumpy hermit when I found him." Rey answered with a shrug. "I had to beg him to train me at all."

"Well, that is rather unfortunate." Anya replied, tone somber. With a small nod of acknowledgment to Leia, she turned to face Rey. "Shall we begin your training at once, then?"

Rey glanced cautiously over at the general, waiting silently for her approval. Once again, Rey felt as if she had been dropped into the middle of a situation without even a moment of warning. "Uh, I guess," she said. A combination of excitement and trepidation passed through her at the thought of continuing her lessons.

Anya was halfway out of the room before Rey felt the cool metal under her palms. "Oh wait!" Her new teacher turned back, eyes alert for danger at Rey's sudden yell. "Sorry, I just, ah," Rey unhooked the lightsabers from her belt and held them out to Anya, "just thought you should have these back." The woman nodded her thanks as she took the sabers from Rey's outstretched hands.

 _I really hope this isn't a mistake._ Rey thought as she followed Anya from the room.

Sunlight streamed to the ground in intricate patterns; beams from the descending sun fractured upon impact on the overhanging branches. Deep within the trees, a symphony of growls and feral screams mingled with Rey's labored breathing.

She raised a shaking hand to her face, using the edge of her shawl to wipe away the sweat rushing from her pores. For the past hour, she had been running through drills with her staff, showing off her skills to Anya.

"You have good form with a staff," her new teacher commented, clearly pleased. "Your lightsaber skills may be an entirely different matter, the forms are quite different, after all, and can take years to master." she mused, "Who taught you to fight?"

Rey leaned wearily against her staff, "I taught myself, mostly," she responded, avoiding Anya's comment about lightsabers: Rey hadn't had much trouble picking up those skills quickly. "I grew up alone on Jakku - sometimes I had to protect my food and my hauls from scavenging so I learned to defend myself."

"I understand." Anya replied, sitting down lightly on a moss-covered rock. Crossing one leg over another, the woman stared down at her lap, fidgeting with the hilt of one of her sabers. "Life can be cruel and we must, at times, depend only upon ourselves for survival."

"You had a rough childhood?" Rey asked slowly. Not sure even if the question was appropriate, but desperate to learn something - anything - else about this woman. And Ben, if she could.

"Oh, nothing like what you faced, I'm sure. In fact, many people would correctly surmise that I had a rather privileged upbring." Anya replied, unfazed by the question. "There were difficult days, however; my parents were often absent and there also lay the inherent dangers one faces with being a child of government officials. But my brother and I looked after one another, as best we could."

Rey kept silent, shifting uneasily from foot to foot. Dare she ask about him? Everyone else who actually knew _him_ \- not as Kylo Ren, merciless leader of the First Order - as Ben Solo and whatever that implied always seemed hesitant to speak of him. Though Rey begrudgingly acknowledged that their silence was understandable considering all the terrible acts he had committed as Kylo Ren, their refusal to speak about him as he had once been did little to help her comprehend his exact nature.

"Something on your mind?" Anya inquired, noticing Rey's restlessness.

"It's just...well-" Rey paused. A sudden, unexplainable burst of frustration tore through her mind. _Ben._ "I need to go take care of something. Real quick." Hand wrapping tightly around her staff, Rey took off at the run through the jungle, not waiting for a response from Anya. The last time someone had witnessed her Force connection with the Resistance's enemy had felt like a violation of privacy. _Besides,_ Rey reasoned, _if he senses someone else nearby, he might try to ignore me again. But we_ need _to talk about whatever the hell is going on._

Her heart pounded in time with each step she took deeper into the heart of Dxun's interior. "Where are you running to?" Rey skidded to a halt, almost tripping over an upturned branch in her haste to turn and find where Kylo Ren's physical form had manifested itself this time in her mind.

Breathing hard, Rey waited for her lungs to stop burning before replying. Her eyes quickly scanned over his body for any clear signs of injury. "You look terrible," she commented, not knowing how else to phrase her surprise at his haggard appearance. Deep, dark circles had formed beneath his eyes, leading Rey to wonder if he had even slept since the last time they had spoken almost two weeks prior.

The burning rage she felt coming from him subsided a bit as he continued to stare at her, exhaustion clear on his features, though he attempted to cover it with a measure of concern for her. "You haven't answered my question," he said, dark eyes scanning her in much the same way she had him. "Are you in danger?"

Rey shook her head. _Basically everyone else in the galaxy would think I was in danger, talking to you._ "No. Are you?" she questioned, knuckles turning white as she gripped her staff tighter. If there was something - or someone - hurting him, she would not rest until the problem had been dealt with.

"That's not -" His attention wavered; his eyes glazing slightly as he listened to someone else speak.

"Ben?" Carefully, worried she might spook him if she moved too quickly, Rey stepped closer. "What's wrong?"

His eyes snapped back to focus on Rey as his given name passed her lips, a look of confusion passed quickly over his face as if he had momentarily forgotten she was there. "Nothing." The word was spoken too quickly, too harshly for Rey to believe. "It isn't safe." He muttered, "You need to leave."

"What isn't safe?" Rey asked, stopping a few feet in front of him. Close enough to reach out and touch him, if she wanted to.

"Do you feel it?" Kylo implored, his lightsaber suddenly appearing in his gloved hands. Even though the blade was still collapsed, the question passed through Rey's mind if she could somehow be killed in their Force connection. If he had the urge to attack her now, could he kill her?

 _He won't hurt me._ Rey reminded herself stubbornly. _At least, not intentionally_. A small shudder of fear passed through her. Whatever was happening to Kylo Ren was leaving him unstable. He was more dangerous now, in his current state of mind, than ever before.

"No," she whispered, unsure whether she was answering his question or trying to convince herself that Kylo Ren would not try to kill her.

"Really?" A look of surprise covered his face. "You don't feel-" He paused, anger blazing to life behind his eyes as he turned to look at whoever was speaking. Involuntarily, Rey stepped backwards as his lightsaber ignited, crimson sparks jumping from the blade.

"Ben?" Rey readied her staff, though she logically knew that she would be of no help. Not from halfway across the galaxy. _This conversation is going nowhere._ "If you're in danger, I can-" _Can what?_ Rey questioned. _Can leave my allies and wander around the galaxy until I run into the First Order and get captured again? How would that possibly help?_

 _I never should have left that ship without him._ Rey thought guiltily, staring at his defensive posture. "I should have made you come with me." she said aloud.

"What?" Kylo's tone softened, though he kept his eyes trained on whoever else was in the room with him.

 _I feel like I'm talking to two different people at the same time: He's nice to me and looks like he wants to kill everyone else._ "You were unconscious," she stated, thinking back to that day in Snoke's throne room. "I should have dragged you back to the Resistance with me. You wouldn't be alone and in danger now, if I had."

"Fairly certain I would still be in danger," he responded dryly. "Your friends don't exactly like or trust me. For good reason."

"I would have protected you," Rey insisted.

"You would have tried," he corrected, finally turning back to face her. "Do you really believe that your general would have allowed me to live if you had brought me back as your prisoner?" His tone was flat now, emotionless. Rey decided this version of Kylo Ren was infinitely more terrifying than the violent, unpredictable man the majority of the Resistance was familiar with.

"You mother would never have-" she began.

"My mother," he interjected, clearly annoyed, "would have done whatever was necessary to protect her precious rebellion." Disbelief must have been evident on Rey's face because Kylo quickly added, "Ask her. She'll tell you herself. She doesn't put anyone, even her son, over the Resistance."

"But," she stuttered, unable to come up with a proper response when he was staring at her with such absolute conviction in his eyes. _That can't possibly be true. Leia would never-_

Before she could come up with a way to convince Kylo that he was wrong about his mother, their connection ceased. Looking at the place where he had been standing just seconds before, Rey couldn't shake the feeling that something worse than war was coming, for both of them.

Maybe it had already come.

The sound of someone clearing their throat had Rey whirling around, staff at the ready. "Anya." she gasped, wondering just how long the woman had been standing there.

"So this is why your interest was peaked when I mentioned I knew Ben." Anya sighed, a look of resignation crossing her face. "Go on then, ask me your questions. Let's get this out of the way." Arms crossed lightly over her chest, she waited patiently for Rey to lower her staff.

"My questions?" Rey asked, still shaken by her latest conversation with Kylo Ren. "How did you- Wait, did you see him? Just now."

A slight smile crossed Anya's face as she shook her head. "No, but I recognize the feeling of bemusement that comes from a prolonged conversation with Ben Solo. Besides," the woman added, "I felt his Force mingling with yours and put two and two together as I watched you talking to the air."

 _Huh, I must look crazy when I'm talking to him. Never thought about that before._ "You felt…?"

"He has a rather distinctive presence." Anya explained. "Technically, every Force user does. In time, you'll learn how to distinguish friend from foe."

Rey filed that information away, determined to test it out for herself. "I don't think he is: A foe, I mean."

Anya tilted her head thoughtfully, "Many people would argue with you on that point."

"Would you?" Rey asked. Curiosity at what Anya's answer would be mixed with Rey's hot-headed desire to march back to base and point-blank ask Leia if she would have put her own son to death if Rey had brought him back with her. She just needed to prove someone wrong: preferably Kylo Ren.

"No." Anya answered confidently. "Not to you, at least."

"What do you mean by that?" Rey demanded.

"You remind me of him, a little." Anya replied, glancing away. "Headstrong, reckless, you let your emotions control you instead of the other way around; you're kindred spirits."

Rey felt both proud and uneasy of the fact that she reminded Ben's childhood friend so much of him.

"Don't fret." Anya added, noticing Rey's unease, "You aren't exactly alike. Just alike enough that I can see why the two of you might get along."

"Oh." Rey swallowed some of her fear, feeling slightly better. "So he was always impulsive, huh?"

"Incredibly so, yes." Anya laughed, the softness of her tone contrasting vibrantly with the harsh jungle noises. "Both he and my brother Krillien have that particular quality. Though it did get them out of a few scrapes when we were children, it also got us all into quite a few more."

"It's odd," Rey acknowledged, "thinking of him as a child. Or of the two of you as friends."

Anya uncrossed her arms, letting her hands rest easily on the hilt of her lightsabers. "I imagine so. We are rather different, he and I."

"How were you friends?" Rey wondered, thinking back to earlier in the day when she had laughed at the thought of Anya meeting Kylo Ren.

"Well, I was mostly the annoying little sister who tagged along on his and Krillien's adventures." Her tone turned somber, "I found it challenging to put our childhood behind us, considering Ben saved my life on more than one occasion, but…" she trailed off, leaving Rey to wonder how many bridges her enemy-turned-unlikely-ally - when it suited him - had burned.


	7. Chapter 7: Awakening

_A/N: Thank you to everyone who has followed, favorited, and reviewed; you all are amazing!_

 _Warnings for this chapter: Slightly gruesome death scene, depression, and suicidal ideation.  
_ ***  
Millions of pale, blue lights lit up the city's landscape, making it impossible to remain completely hidden within the buildings' tall shadows. Though far above their heads, the roaring sound of airspeeders was nearly deafening. Even at night, the city spanning the entirety of the planet of Coruscant never slept.

"If we get caught, I'm blaming you." A young Ben Solo whispered harshly to his companion, pressing himself closer to the durasteel building as a pair of night watchman strode past. Oblivious to the two teenage boys out after curfew, the guards continued along their patrol route, conversing heatedly in low tones.

"We're not going to get caught," the other boy insisted as soon as the guards were out of sight. "Though it's nice to know you have a sense of loyalty," he joked, face splitting into a wide grin.

"It's called 'self-preservation,' you moron." Ben replied, irritation evident in his tone. "I can't risk getting in trouble again, you know that." Stepping cautiously from the shadows, he glanced around at their surroundings, looking for the best shortcut to their destination.

"If you're so worried about getting caught, you could have stayed locked up in your penthouse like a good senator's son." His friend responded, stepping confidently out onto the dimly-lit walkway that ran all the around the outside of the wide skyscraper responsible for housing visiting political officials and their families.

"But, Krillien," Ben said with a smirk, "I'm decidedly _not_ a good senator's son."

"If you were, then we wouldn't be friends. I can't be the only rebellious child among the governmental elite, after all, that would be unfair." Krillien laughed, leading the way down the numerous steps to the populated sidewalks below. "Besides, aren't you already grounded?" He whispered, "What else are your parents going to do to you if we _do_ get caught?"

"Probably barricade me in my room the rest of the time we're on Coruscant." He muttered, keeping a wary eye out for more guards as they cleared the stairs and began mingling into the flowing crowd of people. "Dad threatened to feed me to a sarlacc. I don't think he was entirely joking." Ben shrugged, "Probably had something to do with the fact that one of the engines on the _Falcon_ blew up when I crashed it."

"You crashed his ship?" Krillien asked, askance. "Where was I?"

"You were grounded. This was right after we snuck out last time back on Hosnian Prime and got cornered by your father's security detail because you tried to break into your own house."

"Oh yeah," Krillien said, a mischievous glint shining in his light blue eyes, "I remember that. Good times."

Ducking down a dark alleyway, the boys continued on their way, grateful that their plain, black clothes kept them from attracting too much unwanted notice.

"Where is your dad, anyway?" Krillien asked, desperate to drown out the shifty sounds of city nightlife as they navigated through the curling maze of alleyways.

"No idea." Ben responded, quickly side-stepping around a dark pool of liquid that smelled mysteriously of iron. "Just not here."

Krillien was quiet for a moment, contemplating how his friend might respond to his question. "So he took off again, huh?"

Ben's silence spoke volumes and Krillien quickly dropped the subject.

"We better get to your supplier soon," Ben said, breaking the tense silence. "It took us longer to sneak out than we counted on and we only have a few hours of relative darkness left."

"It shouldn't be much further," Krillien insisted, shooting his friend an exasperated look. "You're really worried about getting caught, aren't you?"

"The thought is not exactly comforting." He responded, lowing his voice as they approached the back entrance to the cantina where Krillien had set up his meeting, jazzy overtones floated out from through the partially-open door. "You know how my mother loves to give passionate, long-winded lectures."

"Yeah, those go on for quite a while," Krillien grimaced at the thought. "Look, we've come all this way. We'll just go in, get the artifact -"

"Wait," Ben interrupted, a groan escaping his lips as he spotted a familiar petite figure out of the corner of his eye. "Isn't that your sister?"

"My what?" Krillien turned, mouth gaped open. "What in the blazes is she doing here?"

"Well," Ben said, pointing towards the young girl openly staring at one of the city's countless beggars who littered the back alleyways, "go get her. It's one thing to get in trouble for sneaking out, it's an entirely different set of consequences if you get blamed for Anya sneaking out."

"If _we_ get blamed, you mean." Krillien retorted as he slowly walked up to the little girl.

"She's not _my_ sister," Ben whispered back, smug.

Anya had her back to them and didn't hear Krillien approach, enraptured as she was by her mostly one-sided conversation with the malnourished, homeless Twi'lek. "Anya," Krillien whispered, trying his best to appear inconspicuous and not draw the attention of any of the many shady characters lounging in the alleyway. "Anya," he repeated, reaching out to touch her shoulder.

As soon as Krillien's hand made contact with his sister's shoulder, the girl let out a shrill scream and tumbled backwards. Her dark blue eyes widened in surprise and she appeared not to recognize her brother as she scrambled away, her soft, pale hands caked in dirt. Before Krillien could reassure his sister that she wasn't in any danger, the girl had stood up and bolted away, running farther into the seedy underbelly of Coruscant.

Annoyed, Ben grabbed his friend by the wrist. "Great. Now we have to catch her!" Ignoring Krillien's muttering about 'kriffing little sisters,' Ben pulled him along, hoping Anya wouldn't be able to make it far. Though how a young girl dressed in an expensive, silk nightgown trimmed with silver had made it so far into the bad section of the city without being snatched up was anyone's guess.

Ben yelled a hasty apology over his shoulder as the two boys stumbled through a merchant's stall, scattering bits of patched cloth across the durasteel sidewalk. Unlike on the upper levels of Coruscant where they would have received disapproving looks from the sophisticated elite, none of the people they passed seemed too concerned with the boys' destructive pursuit.

They jolted to a halt as the alleyway split off in three separate directions.

"Which way did she go?" Krillien asked, peering down each path as best he could with the flickering lighting barely igniting their surroundings. "Did you see which way she went?"

"Uh," Ben stammered, trying to think which direction a scared little girl would most likely have taken. Straight ahead looked like it led to a dead end from how tightly the buildings pressed together - the road would be too narrow to lead much of anywhere. The path to the left looked bleak and run-down; only a handful of the most desperate willingly went down that way. The right path seemed likely as it was better lit and crowded with people. Growing up, they had all been indoctrinated to believe that the first rule if you ever got lost in a city was to head to a populated area.

And yet...

"Left," he decided, unsure why that direction was most favorable. A slight tingling at the edge of his consciousness felt like it was leading him in the correct direction. Besides, they had to choose.

Not wasting time to argue, Krillien followed Ben down the left-hand path. "Why did she run?" He panted as they continued quickly down the alleyway, keeping an eye out for any other turn-off points that Anya might have gone down.

Ben could only speculate. Probably the girl's nerves had been so on edge from wandering the streets alone that her flight reaction had taken over when Krillien called her name. Just their luck.

A high-pitched screech split the air from about half a block away. "At least my sister's got some good lungs," Krillien stated grimly, racing toward the sound.

As they grew closer, it became evident why Anya had been screaming: Three human men, all heavily armed with an odd assortment of ancient and modern weaponry, had materialized from the shadows. The largest of the three had grabbed Anya from behind, pinned her arms to her sides and easily lifted her up off the ground. None of the civilians watching from the sidelines made any move to intervene.

Without regard for his own safety, Krillien lurched forward.

A vice-like grip around his right upper arm had him falling backwards on the ground with a _thud_ and dragged him behind a low stack of metal shipping crates. Another hand covered his mouth just as he was about to scream.

"Be quiet!" Ben hissed from behind him. "Are you _trying_ to get us all captured?"

Peering out from behind their temporary hiding place, Ben wordlessly watched as the three mercenaries carted Anya off. Sighing, he moved his hand away from Krillien's mouth, making sure to keep a tight hold on his friend's arm so he didn't dart away.

"What the hell was that about?" Krillien demanded, twisting his body around to glare heatedly at Ben.

Ben returned his friend's glare, a patronizing look covering his face. "You were planning on running straight into danger; that's dumb."

"She's my sister, I'm not just going to sit here and do nothing!"

"Not 'nothing.'" Ben replied, trying hard to remember what his father had told him to do if he ever ended up in this type of situation. Though, 'Blow it up,' didn't seem like a very practical solution to their current problem. But nor was there was no time to think through an entire plan like his mother would have wanted, not with the kidnappers getting farther away with Anya with every second he and Krillien delayed.

"I'm going after them, Ben." Krillien insisted, tugging his arm free from his friend's grip.

"Damn it." Ben muttered, watching Krillien inch out from behind the crates in pursuit of the men who had taken his sister. "Now I'm definitely going to get into trouble."

"I thought you weren't coming," Krillien asked, throwing Ben a knowing grin as the other boy kept close behind as they stuck to the shadows, trailing the mercenaries from a relatively safe distance.

"You think I was about to let you save your sister all by yourself?" He replied, somber tone contrasting greatly with Krillien's fake ease, "How, exactly, would I explain why I let the two of you get killed to your parents?"

Creeping along, they stuck to the shadows as much as possible, oftentimes darting from one hiding place to another whenever their current path became blocked. Luckily, the kidnappers never turned around or gave any indication that they knew they were being followed.

An hour had passed - as far as Ben could tell by the position of the stars - since he and Krillien had begun tailing the mercenaries. With each passing moment, he grew more and more concerned that they had made the wrong choice in following. "We should have circled back around and tried to find the city guard," he whispered to his friend. "Do you even know where we are anymore?"

"It doesn't matter," Krillien responded harshly, tiredness evident in his voice. "By the time we got back with soldiers, the kidnappers would have been long gone."

"So what's your brilliant plan?" Ben snapped back, wishing he had never agreed to sneak out in the first place.

Finally, the three men turned off down a side alleyway, pushing their way through the rusty door of an abandoned warehouse. The boys hesitated outside. "Seriously," Ben spoke softly, eying the warehouse with trepidation, "do you actually have a plan?"

Beside him, Krillien gulped. "No. Getting here _was_ my plan."

Fear passing through him in waves, Ben stood warily. "Where are you going?" Krillien demanded, "Get back here!"

Ignoring his friend's frantic whispering, Ben cautiously approached the door through which the men had taken Anya. No one was guarding the door. Careful not to open the door any more than it already was in case the rusty hinges squeaked and gave away his position, Ben squeezed himself through the crack.

As his eyes adjusted to the dim, yellow light within, he took note of the sentinel half asleep in a low corner of the front room. This man was shorter and thinner than the three that took Anya. _How many of them are there?_

Slowly, Ben walked towards the lone guard, silently willing none of the loose, metal slaps beneath him to creak. A blaster lay discarded by the man's left hand; his fingers resting inches from the cool metal which he released in sleep.

Kneeling, Ben reached tentatively out towards the blaster. His hand closed tightly around the barrel, pulling it towards himself. _Please don't wake up._ His thoughts directed silently to the sleeping guard. Oddly, the guard shifted slightly, eyes closing deeper in sleep.

Scrambling back away from the sleeping guard, Ben breathed a sigh of relief. Standing, he made his way back the door, gesturing frantically for Krillien to come inside. There was no way he was doing any of this alone.

Not waiting for Krillien to join him, Ben crept towards the entrance to the far room. Unless they ran into any more surprise mercenaries, there were only three left. Of course, two children with a blaster between them taking down three well-trained soldiers - well, the odds were not good. Especially considering that Anya was likely tied up somewhere and they needed to make sure she stayed out of the line of fire.

Behind him, the door squeaked as Krillien stepped into the warehouse.

Ben had just enough time to turn and send his friend a scalding glare before the first guard appeared around the corner. With the tip of a vibroblade threatening to pierce his chest, Ben had no choice but to drop his recently-acquired blaster to the floor. _We are all going to die. Thanks, Krillien._

The room beyond could not have been more than one-hundred feet in either direction. Caged torches had been set up around the perimeter of the room, casting half the room in a red glow and leaving the rest in a murky darkness. Anya was firmly tied to a metal chair in the middle of the room, eyes wide and terrified. The big man, who Ben now assumed to be the leader, stood directly behind her, holding a blaster rifle against her temple.

Obligingly, Ben knelt down on the cold floor, figuring he would end up there one way or another. Hands raised in surrender, he glanced to his right to see Krillien vainly attempting to free himself from the mercenaries' grip. Ben flinched involuntarily as the butt of the mercenaries' blaster collided with the side of Krillien's skull, forcing him to the ground.

"What do we have here?" The leader laughed, blaster still held closely to Anya's head. "Boys trying to play at being heroes?"

From the ground, Krillien groaned. Dark red blood poured from the wound on his head. Shaking himself from the downward spiral of his thoughts, Ben forced himself to remember his few lessons in human anatomy: "Head wounds often look worse than they are."

"We weren't attempting to be heroes, sir," Ben responded, realizing with a sudden pang of dread that he was the only one currently capable of doing anything about their predicament. "It's just-" he froze, wondering how much to tell the man. What were those lessons on negotiation that his mother was always going on about?

"Just what?" The man prodded, pressing the gun into Anya's temple. "Did you alert the city guard? Are there soldiers on the way?"

 _I knew we should have let the professionals deal with this._ There was no good answer. If he said "yes," chances were the mercenaries would decide to cut their losses and murder all three of their captives. On the other hand, if he said "no," then that would mean admitting that no one was coming to save them. Either way, they would all likely be dead by morning.

 _I don't know what to do._ Ben admitted to himself, silently cursing his own stupidity. _I'm not good at this; I'm not good with words. I can't talk my way out of this…_

Unable to come up with any sort of plan, he remained silent. _Dad would have a good quip right about now._

Fear vibrated through him, coursing through his veins.

He could feel the thickness of emotion in the air. His own terror mingled with the palpable, primal fear he sensed emanating from both Anya and Krillien. There was no escape.

As his eyes met the cold, mocking gaze of the kidnappers' leader, he noticed his fear began to shift deep inside. _We're all going to die._ Ben thought again. Except, this time, the thought wasn't so much frightening as irritating. _I did not participate in all of this insanity tonight just to die!_

He suddenly wished he was older and stronger. Maybe he would have been able to protect his friends if he wasn't so weak and unskilled.

Nothing about this situation was right. He and Krillien had snuck out plenty of times before without anything bad happening. And now, the one time that Anya was stupid enough to follow them, she gets kidnapped and they - like proper idiots - decide that rescuing her themselves is a valid life choice!

Still raised, his hands slowly clenched into tight fists, fingernails biting into his palms. Why did everything in his life always go wrong? Why did people never keep their promises? Why had he let himself be dragged into this mess?

The ground around Ben began to shake. Loose bits of metal flooring twitched beneath his bent knees. Behind him, the men shifted uneasily. "Boss…" One of them began.

"Don't move!" The leader commanded, his voice distant to Ben's ears. "Move and I'll shoot the girl."

Everything was connected. The earth, the air, the trees, animals, everything. He had always known it, had always felt an invisible tether binding him to everything in the universe. But it had never felt this potent.

What was life? What was death? What did any of it matter since the cycle of birth and decay never ceased?

Whole planets could be blown apart and the universe would not mourn their passing. Would barely notice the change their absence brought.

How much less were people than planets? They were nothing but worthless insects. And insects were crushed.

The leader's gun fell to the ground with a sharp, metallic _clang._ His fingers fumbled around his throat, pulling at the leather collar as if it was too tight. Panic radiated from the man. Such sweet, intoxicating fear.

Ben could only watch, fascinated, as the man fell to his knees. The leader's face turned an unhealthy shade of red as oxygen tried to force its way up to the man's brain. With a final, strangled gasp, he collapsed on his side. Dead.

The remaining two mercenaries balked at the sight of their dead leader.

Something in the air called to Ben. Its sound was too faint to make out, but it permeated his mind, sweetly singing to him to release it from its cage. Sweat beaded on his skin, brought to the surface by the intense heat fanning into life deep within him.

Molecules of air bunched together. Drawing on the emotions he felt both from within him and present in the room, Ben _pushed._

A sickening crunch could be heard as the two remaining mercenaries collided with the far wall, their bodies hitting with enough force to cause bone to break through skin.

Shaking, Ben stood to his feet. Robotically, he walked towards the chair where Anya sat in muted terror. Methodically, he untied the rope binding her to the chair.

She sprang to her feet and ran to Krillien with a cry of relief.

Feeling suddenly drained, Ben found he lacked the energy to move, choosing instead to sink gratefully to the floor. The coolness of the metal flooring doused the heat pouring from him; he imagined this was how people felt as they were burned alive.

"Ben?" A worried voice sounded from far away. "Ben? Ben, you need to get up. We have to go."

Tiredly, he blinked. Why would anyone want him to move? Could he even move? He felt like he was floating in a pool of water.

The power he had felt burning through him just seconds ago was extinguished. As the blackness of exhaustion forced his eyes closed, he promised himself that he would do whatever it took to feel that power again.  
***

Kylo Ren had felt the mutineers coming long before they had made it to his chamber door. But, as he pulled himself from thoughts of the past, he found he lacked the motivation to properly deal with the uprising. The very thought of anyone daring to rise up and challenge his rule as Supreme Leader ought to have inspired a bout of fury and a long list of executions to be carried out immediately.

But he was just so tired.

Rey had glimpsed the true state of his mind, he knew, when they had briefly communicated earlier that day. She had grown overly concerned and he worried she would act rashly if she understood the danger he was in, so he had pulled on a facade, hoping it would alleviate some of her concerns. That she was concerned at all greatly confused him.

They had not spoken much since the battle on Crait. Their few - too few, in his estimation, conversations had done little to shift the dynamic of their...whatever the hell they were. So how did her spark of concern for him become reignited? Had she had another vision about him? That was unlikely, he would have been able to tell if she was keeping something from him.

At least, he would have been able to notice if he was in a more stable state of mind.

It was odd, he often found himself thinking, how some days he woke believing himself to be insane, and other days he found that he was the only sane person left in the entire universe. Even Rey had to be a bit unstable to keep feeling concern over his wellbeing.

Blaster fire sounded in the hallway as the mutineers took out his personal guard.

"Are you going to do _anything_ about them?" Snoke questioned, annoyed with his apprentice's lethargic state.

"I haven't decided," Kylo responded morosely. Arguing with his master had gotten him nowhere. Hacking at Snoke's blurry outline had done nothing except add to his rage. Now Kylo settled for acceptance: His master had not left him so far and it appeared unlikely that he would leave, so he might as well learn to live with it.

For the few moments longer he would be permitted to live, that is.

There was no doubt in his mind that the current mutiny would end only when he was dead. Most likely, he would be killed in a rather public execution and be rightfully charged with murdering the former Supreme Leader. It was all very political.

"I always imagined I would die fighting," he remarked to his master. "But now that seems pointless."

"Kill them and put an end to this insurrection!" Snoke demanded, fury evident in his tone. "Prove to me that you were not a complete waste of my attention!"

Kylo didn't respond, choosing instead to unhook his lightsaber from his belt. Instead of wielding it to cut down his enemies, he placed it carefully on the small table beside his bed. He had no idea what would become of his saber after he was killed - it would probably be deconstructed and used for spare parts. He really didn't care.

The mutineers had reached his door, pounding on the metal frame to try and force their way inside.

"What will happen to my Force connection with Rey when I'm dead?" He questioned, not really expecting an answer from his master. He had never been particularly forthcoming. "Will she feel me die?" He hoped it wouldn't cause her pain.

She would move on. She would forget about him. Everyone did.

"How are you so weak?" Snoke asked, disgusted.

His chamber door slid open and the mutineers rushed into the room, blasters raised.

Captain Phasma entered, all chrome armour and no telling facial expressions from behind her helmet. Kylo could sense she was disappointed by the lack of a struggle.

"Will you not fight?" She asked, a hint of disbelief breaking through her monotonous tone.

Kylo sighed, glancing around at the dozen stormtroopers all prepared to shoot him upon Phasma's orders. "No, I don't think so." He stated blankly.

The flare of pain in his head had him flinching, but he refused to give his master the satisfaction of allowing that pain to envelop him and lead him to kill everyone in the room. It wasn't that he suddenly believed in the sanctity of life, rather, he just found the thought of murder boring.

He didn't speak as Phasma placed repressor cuffs on his wrists. Nor did he bother struggling as the stormtroopers marched him from his chambers, down the hallway, onto the lift, and down countless more hallways until they finally reached the detention level.

It seemed they weren't going to put him to death immediately. He found that realization to be disquieting.

The cell door opened with a hiss and he was pushed inside, the cuffs still locked around his wrists.

"This mutiny feels like a bit of a letdown," he commented as the door slid closed.

Snoke didn't reply.

Looking around the blank, dark cell, he was momentarily surprised to find that his master's ghost had vanished at some point. "He'll be back," Kylo reassured himself.

Sitting down on the edge of the cot, he stared at the wall, trying not to think of Rey. If he thought of her, then their connection might open. And it would not do for her to see him as a prisoner. She would worry.

A fuzzy outline appeared, standing off to his right. Kylo didn't look; he knew who it was.

"What has it been, two weeks, and you're already in a cell?" a sarcastic voice questioned. "Who knew you would prove to be a terrible Supreme Leader?"

The tiniest spark of anger flared to life within Kylo Ren as his eyes turned see the blue figure of Luke Skywalker mockingly standing before him.

Perhaps he should have fought the mutiny harder.


	8. Chapter 8: Something Drastic

_A/N: Life is starting to pick up again on my end. I'll do my best to upload a new chapter at least once a week, but I absolutely won't be able to keep publishing a chapter every-other-day or so. Thank you for all of the support with this fic! Please continue to follow the story and leave reviews. You all are the best!  
***_

Rey sat alone on a small slab of rock jutting out from the cave's exterior. She had tried relieving one of the sentry guards on duty just to give herself an excuse not to sleep, but had been told that she was not expected to perform that task. Apparently, many in the Resistance saw her as a Jedi to be renowned, not as a scavenger girl who had many other skills besides the ability to use the Force.

Sounds of merriment drifted to her ears from deep inside the cave. Finn had wanted her to stay, to be part of the celebrations. But Rey didn't feel there was much cause for celebration. Logically, she knew why everyone's spirits had been raised: Anya's contacts on Onderon had paid off and the royal family there had agreed to lend support to the Resistance. It was a pivotal moment in the battle.

But something just felt _off_ to her.

Exhaling deeply, she focused her mind, remembering the few meditation techniques she had learned from both of her masters. Clearing her mind proved almost impossible - something was missing.

Or someone.

Reaching out with her mind, she followed the sliver of power that connected her and - _Ben._ She thought sternly. That's who he was, at least around her. When they were alone. When he didn't feel pressured to hide his true self.

How desperately she wanted everyone else to be able to see him the same way. And yet, a selfish part of her relished in the rush of elation she felt because she was the _only_ one who actually knew him.

The man she knew certainly wasn't the thoughtful, idealistic, and loyal boy that Anya had told her stories about. Except...she had seen that careful, calculated look in his eyes when he watched her; had felt his intense determination to protect her whenever she was in danger. That boy was not nearly as dead as everyone seemed to believe.

Just buried - buried very deeply under a mask of rage and indifference. But when that mask was pulled back, the conflict underneath was crystal clear. He had been stuck his entire life between two opposite extremes, only to find he belonged in neither.

It was all too easy, Rey thought, to imagine that she would have made a different choice. But would she? If their roles had been reversed, would she have chosen any differently? If she had felt a dark, forbidden power growing within her, would she have been able to resist going against everything she had been taught to believe was right just to try and find herself?

She had been tempted already and had almost given in after a few moments of doubt. What would _years_ of that type of self-deprecation drive someone to do?

Every day that she spent in the Resistance, better understanding the values and the people behind the group, a smidgen more empathy washed over her. _Ben must have thought running was his only option. He didn't think anyone would accept him. And he was partially right._ She thought, sickeningly, remembering the multiple versions of the story she had been told of the night Master Luke had gone to confront his nephew.

 _But he hadn't met_ me _then,_ Rey thought with determination, _and I'm not going to give up on him._

True, she had thought to give up on him for a moment, after Crait, but had quickly tossed the idea aside as her concern for him sparked anew upon feeling the pain he was in.

"Rey?" A voice called out. With a pang of disappointment, she realized the voice was coming from down below, not present in her mind. "Are you out here?"

Head hanging over the side of her perch, she spotted a tall, lone figure backlit by torch light. "Up here, Poe," she responded, trying to keep the sadness from her voice. There was no possible way to explain why she upset.

"What are you doing all the way up there?" Poe asked as he clambered his way up to join her on the small, bumpy boulder.

"Just thinking," she responded as cheerily as possible without sounding fake.

"You want some company?"

 _Yes, but he's not here right now._ "Sure." Rey responded, gesturing for Poe to sit down.

Even sitting, Poe seemed antsy. "I know we haven't really spoken much," he said, breaking the silence that had settled between them, "but you weren't at the celebration and, uh…" He sighed, taking a moment to recollect his thoughts. "I know this war can be draining: sometimes it just feels like one defeat after another and it can be hard to see why it all matters. Guess I'm just saying - if you need to talk, you have friends here."

A genuine smile raised the corners of Rey's lips. "Thank you." she responded softly. "All of this is just still so new to me," she admitted, glancing down at her hands. "I'm used to being alone."

"If you want me to leave you alone, just push me off your rock." Poe's laughter was contagious, lifting Rey's contemplative spirits.

"It's not that I _want_ to be alone," she explained as the laughter subsided. "It's more that I'm just not very good at _not_ being alone." Rey paused, considering her last words, "That didn't make much sense, did it?"

"Nah," he responded, turning his face to look up at the stars, "that makes sense. You strike me as more person of action than words, anyway."

"Words don't get you very far on Jakku," she agreed.

As the silence stretched on between them again, Rey's mind drifted to Ben once more. Part of her felt guilty, sitting there with a loyal member of Resistance, outside of the Resistance's base, thinking of their greatest enemy. The other part of her wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all.

Something _had_ been wrong with Ben when they spoke earlier, she had sensed it. But, for some reason, he had tried to act like nothing was wrong. At the time, he had distracted her with his quickly-shifting mood. Now, however, her mind kept replaying that question he had asked her so intensely, "Do you feel it?" Had she felt what?

Other than his odd behavior, nothing about their conversation had lept out to her. What was it that he thought she would feel? Some growing part of their connection? No - she would have noticed.

Well, then who had he been arguing with? She doubted they would have had a conversation had he been anywhere public when the Force connected them. Besides, she hadn't sensed anything abnormal about their connection.

Unless...unless her first instincts had been correct and Master Skywalker had been wrong. Snoke couldn't have been pleased to have been murdered by his apprentice. If he _had_ come back as a Force ghost like Master Skywalker, then he would likely stick around Ben, haunting him, causing him pain. Rey shuddered to think of what Snoke could be capable of, even in death.

"What would you do," she questioned, voice barely above a whisper, "if someone…" Rey paused, trying to gather her courage to say the words. "If someone you cared about was in danger? What lengths would you go to in order to protect them? Is there such a thing as going too far?"

"Who's in danger?" He asked, suddenly alert.

Rey shook her head. "No one. Nevermind." She shouldn't have asked in the first place.

Seeing her withdrawing back into herself, Poe leaned back against the rocks and crossed his arms, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "Well," he began, "I'd probably do something drastic. If someone I cared about was in trouble, I would find a way to get them out of it. Or die trying."

"Even if no one understood?"

"It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks," he insisted, "if someone you love is in danger, you do your best to save them."

' _Love?' I certainly don't - I mean, sure, I_ care _what happens to him and would do anything to keep him safe, but I don't love...Do I?_

"Thanks, Poe." She said, using her staff to help boost herself to her feet. "That's what I needed to hear."

Ignoring Poe's confused sputtering, she quickly climbed down the side of the cave, sliding the last few feet. "Where are you going?" He called from above her.

"To do something drastic." She hollered back, taking off at a run towards the _Falcon._


	9. Chapter 9: Passion and Peace

_A/N: Warnings for this chapter include subtle(?) depictions of depression and not-so-subtle psychological_ _torture_ _.  
If you're interested, a good song to listen to when reading this chapter would be "You" by Breaking Benjamin.  
***_

"How long are you planning on ignoring my presence? Just want to know how much time I need to carve out of my schedule for this."

Kylo continued to ignore the persistent, condescending tone of Luke Skywalker, choosing instead to proceed with his one-sided staring contest with his cell's far wall.

"You were much more talkative last time we met."

How much longer would he have to wait? Surely the officers in charge of the mutiny were not intending on keeping him alive long enough for him to try and formulate an escape plan?

Except, he had no intention of escaping.

Death would come for him as death came for all.

"What, do I not get to hear another dramatic speech on how you're going to tear down the remaining vestiges of the Jedi Order and rule the galaxy?"

 _There's nothing left to do besides sit, wait, and let the old man prattle._

Kylo sincerely hoped he would not come back as a Force ghost; he couldn't bear the thought of having to deal with Skywalker for all of eternity.

 _Just let me die and be done with it._

From the corner of his eye, Kylo watched Skywalker's blue-tinged form blur, an indication that the man was moving. Though to where, Kylo had no idea.

The cell was painfully small: if he had wanted to, he could have walked from the left wall to the opposite side in five quick strides. The width was even shorter, considering the hard cot he sat on took up the entire back wall.

A flash of annoyance passed over his face as Skywalker stepped directly in front of his view. Great, now he was going to have to actively ignore the man.

The thought of moving even slightly grated on his nerves, so Kylo stubbornly remained where he was, careful to keep his eyes fixed on where the floor and wall met as to best avoid looking at his voluntary cellmate.

"Rey told me you killed Snoke," Skywalker said, a note of contemplation in his voice, "sliced him in half."

"Why did you think I was in here?" Kylo retorted, sparks of his old, comfortable anger lighting within him.

"Ah, I thought that might get me a reaction."

Kylo clamped his mouth shut in retaliation, annoyed at himself for rising to the bait.

 _If I ignore him long enough, maybe he'll go away._

He was absolutely not going to spend the last few hours of his life arguing with the deceased.

 _Dammit. But Snoke never goes away when I try to ignore him; the old man is even more stubborn. Blasted Jedi._

"You know," Skywalker continued, apparently choosing to test Kylo's patience, "I'm starting to see a pattern emerge. You're never satisfied, are you? Nothing I ever taught you about serenity and wisdom was enough for you, so you rebelled against me and everything the Jedi stood for. Even the infinite power and knowledge Snoke promised you wasn't enough, so you murdered him."

 _Peace is a lie. There is only passion._

Years of pent-up fury burst to life within Kylo Ren as he surged to his feet. "You know _nothing_ about me!"

Chest heaving with exertion, Kylo put all his brute strength into pulling at the padded repressor cuffs which kept the majority of his connection with the Force just out of reach. Close enough to tease, to trickle through his mind like the final droplets in a rainstorm, only to evaporate as soon as the edges of his consciousness began to dip into the well of power with which he had become so intimately knowledgeable.

He refused to sit idly in front of this hypocrite and not fight with every last breath in his body.

His pride would not allow it.

In this moment, it mattered little that communication had never been his strong suit.

He lacked a lightsaber.

The Force lay mostly dormant inside of him.

All he had left to rely on was his anger. And it had never failed him before.

 _Through passion I gain strength._

"I know _everything_ about you, Ben." Skywalker insisted, unfazed by the display of rage. "I tried so hard to protect you, to shelter you from all of this darkness."

"Protect me?" Kylo repeated, deranged laughter spilling from his lips. "Is that what you were you trying to do when you stood over me, about to _murder_ me?"

For the first time during their conversation, Luke's confident demeanor shifted - a shamed frown pulled down the edges of his mouth. "It was a moment of weakness, Ben. I never would have killed you. Never."

Kylo longed for his lightsaber then - relished in the thought of thrashing the old man's ghost form until he finally vanished. "Oh, and I suppose you expect me to believe the words of a liar?"

"No. I had hoped you might try to look past your anger, given your present circumstances, but I see now that my hopes were in vain. You truly are lost." Every inch of Kylo's being strained against the useless temptation to try and gouge the pity out of Skywalker's eyes.

"Only in your twisted definition of the word!" He spat out - desiring anger, outrage, finality, anything but that cursed pity.

"I swore I would try to help you," Luke shook his head sadly, "but there is nothing I can do to fix the abomination that you have willingly become. You have no one to blame but yourself."

 _You're wrong. I didn't want this. Why can't you see that?_

"I don't need your help!" Kylo insisted, yanking again at his cuffs, satisfied when the metal bit sharply into his wrists due to the immense pressure he exerted. "Just go away!"

Dribbles of blood slipped between the cracks of his skin, splattering without concern on the cold metal flooring.

A veil of darkness drops over his eyes.

Familiar, sharp pain erupts like a supernova in his head.

Overwhelming agony drives him to his knees in front of his master.

"No. Not now, he whimpered. Skywalker could not be allowed to see such weakness.

 _Through strength I gain power._

Blindly reaching out to the Force, Kylo muddled through the sludge of his repressed connection, ineffectively attempting to channel his anguish into a tool he could use to defend himself from the oppressive onslaught.

"I thought I told you to fight, you worthless cur." The venom in Snoke's voice ate away at the last shred of confidence Kylo had managed to conjure during his argument with Luke.

Rough, grisled fingers swept across Kylo's cheek in a mock caress, "How you continuously disappoint me."

Unable to fight and utterly defeated in mind and spirit, Kylo did the only thing he could think of.

He begged. "Just kill me. Please."

"Oh," Snoke's hand drifted down to wrap tightly around Kylo's neck, sharp fingernails digging into his skin, "is death what you desire?"

Kylo swallowed thickly as he struggled past the clenching of his throat to speak, "Yes."

 _It's a weakness - it's pathetic, pleading for death. But it's what I deserve._

"Death," Snoke hissed, increasing pressure, "is far too good for you." With a gutteral snarl, Snoke released his physical hold on Kylo Ren, all the while burrowing deeper into his apprentice's mind.

Kylo attempted to scream, but his throat was already too sore and his lungs too devoid of air for any audible sound to escape. His lungs burned from overwork as his body frantically drew in oxygen, demanding more even as his brain was assaulted on all sides.

Shadow and heat swallowed him whole, slipping into every crevice and quiet thought.

Devouring all light. Snuffing out all hope.

Terror rose to life within him, one spark proving more than sufficient to burn all his worst fears as kindling for a much larger fire. If only it could be his funeral pyre.

Nightmares sprung to life before his eyes - images more tangible and real than anything he had ever experience.

Death. Destruction. Pain. Sorrow. The images flickered before his consciousness too quickly for him to grasp the substance. But long enough for the emotions to stab into the core of his being and tear open wounds he had thought long scabbed over.

One vision played out slowly enough for him to watch the climax: Rey, standing amidst the broken bodies of her allies, rage spewing out of every pore of her being. He was frozen in place, forced to stand and watch, helpless, as the darkness consumed her and she burned down the universe to avenge her fallen comrades.

It wasn't right. It wasn't _her_. But still, after she had decimated whole worlds in her never ending quest for revenge, he was incapable of cutting her down. He would rather die.

And die he did. Rey's face betrayed no emotion as she turned his own lightsaber against him and ran him through, leaving a smoking, cauterized hole in his chest. But his heart had been shattered long ago.

As the image faded and switched to another, Kylo had a brief flash of sobering thought. _This must have been how my father felt._ Snoke had been right, he did have too much of his father's heart in him.

As quickly as the thought had come, it was swept away like debris in the onslaught of visions.

But Kylo grabbed hold of the fact that the thought had come, that comparing himself to his father had not left a bitter taste. Rather, the smallest glimmer of light pierced through the shadow and heat that plagued his mind, calling to him from far off.

With strength of will he didn't realize he still possessed, he pulled himself toward the shard of light brave enough to stand alone in his rolling sea of torment and hatred.

 _Through power I gain victory._

Gasping for air as though he had been shoved under an unforgiving, rushing current, Kylo returned to reality. He knew it was reality because the pain was more exquisite, more precise. Instead of being overwhelmed by thousands of emotions both from within and without his psyche, he was left with only his own emotions. He couldn't decide which fate was more troubling.

His eyes adjusted slowly to the lighting of his prison cell. Though the orange glow cast by the overhead lights was incredibly dim, in comparison with the dark cloud of his thoughts, the faint lighting was as marvelous and blinding as a sun.

He blinked. His mind slowly comprehending the scene in front of him - the scene that no nightmare would ever had conjured because it was too bizarre. Too impossible. Too hopeful.

Luke Skywalker - in all of his Jedi Force ghost glory - stood with his back to Kylo, holding up a shimmering wall of intertwining blue and white light. The intricate patterns were dazzling and Kylo had a difficult time tearing his attention away from the soft, unyielding tones long enough to see what lay behind the wall.

Snoke. Brimming with fury, Snoke pushed back against the wall of light, but was unable to puncture through. His normally arrogant, composed features were pulled back in a snarl, stretching his thin, weathered skin tightly across his face.

"Ben." Kylo flinched as his birth name passed through Skywalker's lips, dreading the deluge of memories that seeped out of their hiding places in the farthest corners of his mind at his name being spoken by the old man in front of him. "I'll hold him off as long as I can; it's what I should have tried to do years ago."

Luke turned to face him, temporarily ignoring his frustrated enemy. "Ben." Hesitantly, feeling as though he were a child again being scolded for peeking at forbidden texts, Kylo raised his head and met his uncle's aged gaze, "You need to make a choice. You need to decide, once and for all, if there is anything in life worth fighting for."

Kylo remained silent, unsure how to formulate a response.

He blinked once and both of his previous masters vanished without a trace of ever having been in his cell.

 _Through victory my chains are broken._

Except, his physical chains were still present - the repressor cuffs were still firmly clamped around his wrists, locking away his connection to the Force.

Except, he was still locked in his cell on the lowest level of the largest First Order ship.

His passion had gotten him nowhere. His strength had failed him. His power lay out of reach. His victory was a sham. His chains were still intact.

The Sith Code had done nothing for him; the teachings were just as in desperate need of change as the Jedi Code. Both Orders wholly fallible.

The wounds in his mind still gaped wide, raw and ugly.

"The Force shall free me," he whispered. The final line of the Sith Code made sense - it was the only part he now put any real faith in.

Still kneeling on the metal floor, he tried his best to appear unconcerned when the lock of his cell door disengaged.

They had come for him at last.

The dark metal door slid open soundlessly. The dim lighting of his cell bathed the newcomer in shadow. From the figure's outline, he could not determine who had come for him. Not stocky enough to be a stormtrooper, not tall enough to be General Hux, not giving off a perception of barely-masked fear to be an officer.

"Heard you needed to be rescued."

Comfortable warmth flooded through him. "Rey," he breathed, hardly believing his eyes as she stepped further into the cell. Dressed in the same outfit he remembered from that fateful day in Snoke's throneroom, soft eyes blazing brightly with the immensity of the light emanating from her, stood Rey, untainted by the darkness so evident in himself.

How could she be here? Was this another one of Snoke's tricks?

With a flick of her hand, the cuffs on his wrists released. The dam being broken, the Force flowed back into his veins quickly.

He hardly noticed.

"How-" he started to question. The single word tasted like gravel and he coughed, desperately trying to coat his throat with enough saliva so he could speak.

"Ben." Suddenly, she was there, kneeling in front of him. Her eyes glanced over the specks of blood on the floor before settling on his face, overflowing with concern. He felt her in his mind, gently poking around to find the answers he was unable to verbally communicate. He allowed the intrusion, relishing in the soft glow of her presence as she soothed his infected mind.

"Ben, what has he done to you?" she whispered, voice sorrowful and underlyed with a flare of anger that he recognized all too well. He was supposed to protect her - she shouldn't be worrying about him.

In that moment, he did what Luke had commanded and made his choice. It didn't matter if this was all an elaborate vision, Ben knew he would follow her to the ends of the universe.  
***

 _A/N: Thank you for reading! Please leave a review._


	10. Chapter 10: Wisdom and Strength

_A/N: Well, I absolutely did not anticipate updating again so soon, but some chapters just write themselves.  
_ ***  
From their most recent communication through their Force bond, Rey had expected to have to fight her way through wave after wave of stormtroopers. She had anticipated having to barge onto the Bridge, cut her way through any officers who resisted, and drag Ben back to the _Falcon_ where they could make their escape.

She had been prepared to stage an elaborate, possibly suicidal rescue mission.

She had not counted on overhearing of the mutiny that had already taken place.

Rey had many questions as to _how_ and _why_ Anya had known where the Supreme Leader's personal landing pad was but, given the time restraints on her mission, had decided to wait and make inquiries later.

Rey had made no comment when Anya had already been aboard the _Falcon_ , seemingly awaiting her presence. Anya was strong in the Force and had likely felt Rey's intentions even before Rey herself had fully decided to throw caution to the wind and sneak onto the First Order's main starship and spirit away their leader.

The only words the two women had spoken had been to decide on their plan: Anya would remain on the _Falcon_ and do her best to keep up a Force illusion so they remained as covert as possible. Rey would seek out Ben and do whatever was needed to get him to leave with her.

Needless to say, the plan had many flaws.

Rey had been surprised when Anya had unclipped one of the lightsabers on her belt and passed it to her with the command that she come back safely. The long, thin handle felt vastly different from the other two lightsabers Rey had wielded. Igniting the saber, she almost dropped the weapon in shock as twin yellow blades burst out from both ends of the handle. Now _this_ was a weapon she could use.

Dread had coiled in her stomach as she crouched in the shadows blanketing the threshold of the long hallway she had just exited. Three elite stormtroopers had stood nearby, loudly praising the success of the mutiny spearheaded by Captain Phasma. Though their masks muffled their voices, Rey heard enough of their words to piece together what had occured.

Many of the highest ranking officers had become wary of the Supreme Leader and his unpredictable outbursts. His temper and power in the Force feared, though hardly understood, Captain Phasma, along with the majority of the officers on the Bridge, had been part of a coup.

Ben had not resisted.

While stealthily making her way down to the detention level, darting from one patch of shadows to the next, nudging a few stormtrooper's minds with the Force so they forgot seeing her, Rey shifted through all of the possible reasons why Ben had not resisted.

Perhaps there had been too many mutineers.

Maybe the soldiers had caught him off guard.

But no reason she came up with would explain why Ben had allowed himself to be captured. He was the type of person who would fight to the bitter end, taking down scores of enemies with him.

He was not the type of person to roll over. It just wasn't in his nature.

Rey was only slightly concerned that the Force trail she was following to him was much duller than it should have been - it made sense that his captors would have found a way to restrain his connection to the Force. Otherwise, the entire ship would likely be split apart by the potency of his rage.

Upon reaching his cell door, she imagined him pacing angrily behind it, eager to break free and deal out revenge on those who had opposed him.

Glib comment about him needing to be rescued prepared, Rey slashed the keypad with the lightsaber Anya had loaned her, disengaging the lock.

She had frozen in the doorway, wishing she could take back her cheeky comment as she stared at the broken man kneeling before her.

Now, crouched down in front of him, emotions waged war deep within her soul.

Ben's mind had been fractured in so many places. On the surface, memories had twisted together to form indistinguishable loops. Reaching out through the Force, Rey gently prodded at the edges of his consciousness, silently requesting permission to delve a little deeper. The immediacy with which he responded surprised her. In the past, he had been resistant when she had tried to enter his mind. Even when their connection had strengthened he had always seemed determined to keep his innermost thoughts hidden from her prying mind.

There was no resistance this time.

Hesitating only a moment, Rey spread her consciousness further into Ben's mind. Surveying the extensive mental damage with all the expertise of a scavenger, Rey began shifting through Ben's most recent memories, attempting to return some semblance of order. Puffs of vapid smoke floated around his consciousness - Rey stayed clear of those, feeling the pull of the dark side radiating from deep within.

His mind was in shambles. Tatters of thought drifted disjointedly, refusing to mesh together to form any real, coherent images.

Snoke would pay for this - somehow, someway. Rey swore it to herself.

As the Force swept back through Ben, vibrating with energy, Rey followed the path it cut through the battlefield of his mind into a deeper part of his consciousness.

" _Sorry."_ The word echoed down through their Force connection. " _It's a bit of a mess."_

Rey couldn't help but smile as his deep, tried, voice sounded within her mind. "It's okay," she responded fondly. "We'll figure it out. Together."

Ben hummed in response, seeming content merely to let her wander, to let her light and warmth wash over his wounded consciousness.

Gathering her strength, Rey pushed all the peace, all the hope, and all the clear, bright threads of the Force she could muster through their Force bond, watching in satisfaction as a few of the clouds of smoke evaporated.

Leaving their connection wide open so that the two of them could easily communicate, Rey retreated her consciousness back into her own self.

She noted with pride that Ben looked a bit healthier now than when she had first broken into his cell. Faint color had returned to his cheeks and his eyes no longer lacked their familiar spark.

" _Are you really here?"_ He stared at her in awe, barely blinking, as if he worried she would vanish any second.

"I am," she answered.

Slowly, she reached for his hands, being careful to avoid touching the red, exposed flesh of his wrists.

The instant her skin made contact with his, thousands of stars exploded in her mind.

Pushing away the thrilling sensation, Rey forced her mind to stay focused on her task. "We need to get out of here. Can you stand?"

Dazed, Ben nodded.

Bracing herself against the edge of the cot, Rey stood, pulling Ben up with her. He staggered a bit, but retained his footing which Rey took as a good sign.

"Are you hurt?" Cursing herself inwardly for asking such a stupid question, she quickly added, "Physically, I mean. Can you fight?"

" _I'll live."_ The weariness in his mental tone furthered Rey's suspicions about his actual physical state, but they didn't have time to argue the point so she didn't press.

Reaching down to her belt, Rey's hand wrapped around a familiar piece of cool metal. "Here," she said, holding his lightsaber out to him. "I confiscated it from a stormtrooper," she explained when he shot her a questioning glance. "I figured you'd want it back, not torn apart for scraps."

" _I do prefer it in one piece."_ He replied, grasping the hilt firmly in his right hand.

"Was that a joke?" She asked, crossing the threshold of the cell.

" _No. It doesn't work well if it's broken."_

His confusion tickled at Rey's mind across their connection, causing her to smile. "We'll have to work on your sense of humor."

Exiting the hall of cells, Rey kept her pace steady, trusting Ben to be able to keep up with her. "We just have to make it down to your hanger bay," she said, stepping over the bodies of stormtroopers who had been foolish enough to get in her path when she had made her way down to the detention level.

" _You leave a lot of bodies behind for someone not wanting to draw attention to themselves."_ Ben commented, pride drifting over into Rey's consciousness as Ben pushed the bodies aside with the Force, easily clearing the path in front of them.

"They tried to stop me," she responded, feeling an odd flutter in her stomach at the strange compliment.

Keeping her emotions and thoughts in check was harder than Rey had anticipated. But there was no way she was going to close her connection with Ben again, not when she had just gotten him back.

Though they clearly needed to have a discussion about boundaries at some point.

" _Do you have a plan for getting back down to the hanger bay?"_ Ben questioned as they neared a more public area of the ship. " _I can't exactly sneak around anywhere."_

"I hadn't really thought about it," Rey replied, worriedly chewing at her bottom lip. "Guess we'll just have to fight our way out."

" _You want to fight our way through thousands of soldiers?"_

"Well," she answered, "all of your soldiers want to kill you. That doesn't exactly work out well for us."

" _Not all of them. Just the majority."_

Clearing his throat, Ben brushed past her, intercepting a couple of low-ranking officers. Upon seeing him, their eyes grew wide and frightened, though neither reached for a weapon. "Inform the commanding officers to gather on the Bridge. I have a mutiny to end." Both men nodded hastily and jumped to do his bidding.

"You should rest your voice," Rey said as the men ran off down the long hallway, "it sounds awful."

" _Being choked will do that, I suppose."_ He mentally responded, following her suggestion.

"Choked?" Rey repeated, anger pushing aside all reason. "By who?"

He glanced down at her, face impossible to read. Through their connection, Rey was able to feel his concern. Concern for her. " _It's nothing."_

She wanted to push, to ask about Snoke. To demand answers about what was going on. To understand _why_ he had tried to keep his predicament hidden from her.

But they needed to focus on escaping.

Grabbing his hand again, Rey moved quickly down the hallway, hoping that fear of the Supreme Leader would be enough to keep anyone from stopping them. "Elevator?"

" _Yes."_

Though soldiers and stormtroopers glanced their way - sometimes openly staring at the odd pair - no one made any move to impede their progress even after the elevator opened onto the correct floor.

Rey wondered what the soldiers thought was going on. Hadn't there just been a mutiny? Why wasn't anyone trying to stop them?

" _Why are you disappointed that we aren't fighting for our lives?"_ Ben questioned, a hint of amusement slipping through.

"Shut up," she muttered eloquently.

Seeing the hanger bay hallway straight ahead, Rey surged forward with a burst of energy.

Only to be firmly held back.

" _Stop."_ Ben's voice sounded in her head as he pulled her back behind a large pile of shipping crates. " _I sense someone up ahead."_

Rey crouched down, tightening her hold on her borrowed lightsaber. " _Can we get around them?"_ She mentally asked, reaching out tentatively with the Force to try and sense her enemies as Anya had taught her. " _Or do we have to fight?"_

" _It's Phasma."_ Ben replied, his burst of anger taking Rey off guard. " _We fight."_

Boldly stepping around the stack of crates, Ben ignited his lightsaber and stalked toward the stormtroopers blocking their escape route.

Unwilling to let him fight alone, Rey scrambled to follow suit.

"Ah, I had heard you broke out of your cage." Phasma's robotic tone echoed along the width of the hallway. "I do hope you'll put up a fight this time," the woman continued, eying the red saber, "it would make it all the more gratifying when we throw you back in your cell."

"You can try," Rey responded, confidently twirling the double-bladed lightsaber, "but you'll fail."

" _Egging her on, really?"_

Rey ignored the comment, keeping her gaze locked onto the captain and her elite guards. So these were the soldiers who had led the mutiny - they would pay for their insubordination.

Compared to the last time they had fought together, the battle went much quicker. The first stormtroopers who opened fire had their blaster bolts redirected into their chests by a simple flick of Ben's lightsaber. Before the other troopers could fire, Rey had ducked in among them, slashing the soldiers apart with her new weapon.

Captain Phasma herself held out the longest.

Keeping her distance, the captain fired round after round of bolts in Ben's direction, though he deflected all of them with ease. Realizing the futile nature of her assault, Phasma dropped her blaster rifle and unsheathed her chrome vibroblade. Rey met the captain's direct attack first, not anticipating that the vibroblade would be able to withstand a hit from her lightsaber.

As such, Rey overreached, her defenses coming up a hair too slow.

The blade nicked her left side, leaving a shallow, bloody gash. Inhaling sharply from the pain, Rey tried to retreat and regain her position, but Phasma followed, bombarding Rey's defenses with a flurry of offensive strikes.

Rey's limbs quickly grew heavy as she parried each blow. Her breath came in spurts, much too fast and heavy to be considered normal.

The pain in her side exploded, forcing her to stagger backwards out of the way of the incoming blade.

Phasma advanced again and Rey imagined the captain was smirking beneath her helmet. The vibroblade came down again in an overhanded thrust.

Before Rey could react, a flash of red came out of nowhere, catching the blade in midair. Ben stood between her and Phasma, his back ridgid with determination. Using his brute strength combined with the raging power of the Force Rey felt flowing through their connection, Ben swept the captain's blade to the side before beginning his own offensive strike.

Unable to withstand the ferocity of his attack, Phasma backed away. But Ben didn't allow her to get far. Before the captain had taken more than three steps, he was upon her again, his red saber a blur of energy.

A sharp _thud_ echoed down the corridor as Captain Phasma's head - still hidden under her chrome helmet - was severed from her body and fell to the floor.

Feeling the danger had passed, Rey flipped off her lightsaber.

Suddenly dizzy, she stumbled forward. A pair of strong hands grabbed her shoulders, halting her forward momentum. " _You've been poisoned."_ Ben's concern swept over her, deescalating her own panic at the situation.

His mind was too fragile - she had to be careful what emotions of hers she allowed him to feel.

"I'll be alright," she murmured.

By sheer force of will, she inched away from the protective warmth drifting off of Ben. Out of habit, she began erecting a wall between their force connection. Her only thought being to keep Ben's unstable mind safe from her own tumultuous emotions.

But when his mind reared in panic at the loss of connection, she lowered the wall again.

"Ship." She muttered, too weary to form full sentences.

Keeping most of her emotions locked away proved almost as draining as the poison that coursed through her veins. But she had not come this far just to lose him again.

Straightening, she pressed a hand against her side to staunch the flow of blood. Thankfully, the cut hadn't gone too deep. Just deep enough for the poison to take effect.

" _Don't worry about the other soldiers,"_ Ben whispered in her mind, trying to distract both of them from the raging emotions drifting unchecked between their consciousnesses. " _They couldn't decide who to help: The Supreme Leader or Phasma. They'll all too afraid to attack now. We have just enough time to leave before they figure out that they actually want me dead."_

With slow, measured steps, Rey made the long trek back down the hallway to where Anya and the _Falcon_ waited. Herself injured, Ben appearing stable though he was anything but, was not how she had expected to return.

" _Really?"_ A sour tone was evident in Ben's voice as his eyes locked on the _Falcon_. " _You brought_ that _ship?"_

Rey scoffed in reply. " _Just be grateful we came to save you._ "

Rey carefully made her way up the gangplank, doing her best to ignore the stabbing pain in her side every time she moved. Ben begrudgingly followed behind her, though she had a sneaking suspicion that he was only willing to board his father's ship out of concern for her welfare.

" _We?"_

" _Yeah. Can you not sense her?"_ Rey pressed the button to close the door.

"Anya!" She called out, moving further into the ship, "We need to get out of here - now!"

" _Anya?"_ Ben frowned. " _What is Anya doing here?"_

Before she could respond, Rey felt the _Falcon_ lurch beneath her feet as the ship took off. Stumbling, Rey just barely managed to catch herself from falling by throwing her hand up to grab a safety strap dangling from the ceiling. Ben made no move to steady himself, apparently keeping himself upright by use of the Force. She would really have to learn that trick.

His eyes traced the length of her right arm, stopping as they landed on her hand covered in her own blood. Anger burned brightly within him.

" _You should sit down."_ He said, moving toward her even as the ship jumped to lightspeed. Though the jump jolted her, he again seemed unaffected.

" _You're poisoned. We need to leach it out. We need-"_ Rey watched, helpless, as his eyes glazed over. She felt his mental state slip, teetering on the edge of a chasm that led somewhere she did not want him to disappear to.

"Ben?" Shoving her own pain and weariness aside, Rey bolted forward, catching him just as he started to fall. Panic gripped her, wild and tangible. Whatever had kept Snoke blocked out from his former apprentice's mind was fading.

"Anya!" Rey screamed, not knowing what to do. "I need help!"

Hearing Rey's yell of terror, Anya burst from the cockpit, scanning the room for danger. Immediately spotting them on the floor, she ran over to assist. "Let's get him to the bed." She said, using the Force to help take most of the weight as the two women transferred Ben's unconscious form to one of the low cots lining the wall.

Rey gritted her teeth against the wave of nausea and pain stemming from her poisoned wound. Seeing Anya's curious glance her way, she waved off the woman's concern. "It's just a scrap. The tip of the blade was poisoned, but I don't think it's too bad."

"Poisoned?" Anya turned to her after Ben had been secured on the cot. "Let me see."

"It's not priority." Rey insisted.

"You can't help him if you're dead because you were too stubborn to properly treat your wound." Anya countered.

Relenting, Rey sat down heavily in the chair closest to the cot, unwilling to take her eyes off of Ben for even a second. Lifting the edge of her shirt, Rey suppressed a groan as the fabric peeled away from her bloody skin.

Unconcerned with the blood, Anya used her fingers to inspect the length and depth of the injury. It was then that Rey remembered Anya mentioning she had been a healer for a few years. "You were lucky the blade didn't pierce any deeper - else you would be bleeding out right now." Placing her palm over the wound, Anya breathed in deeply.

Rey gasped in shock as a foul, black liquid seeped out of her wound, dissipating as soon as it made contact with the air. She felt the Force flow around her in patterns she had never envisioned. Rey watched, captivated, as her skin slowly sewed itself back together, leaving only the faintest, pink scar where her wound had been.

"How did you do that?" She asked, amazed.

"Jedi healing powers," Anya explained, removing her hand. "Any number of things are possible through the Force, you just have to know how to ask it to move."

Anya glanced over at the unconscious Supreme Leader of the First Order - _former leader now, I guess_ , Rey thought with a satisfied smirk. "What happened?"

"Snoke infected his mind, like I thought," Rey responded. "It's-" she paused, unsure how to convey the magnitude of destruction she had viewed in Ben's mind. "It's not good."

Noticing the thoughtful look on Anya's face, Rey pressed, "The sooner we get back to the Resistance, the better."

"Oh," Anya said, standing, "we aren't going back to the Resistance."

Alarm bells rang in Rey's head and she reached for the lightsaber Anya had let her borrow. "What are you talking about?" she demanded.

"The Resistance can't help him, Rey." Anya patiently explained. "I've set an autopilot course for a different destination."

"Where are we going?" Rey stood, lightsaber in hand, ready to be ignited.

Anya glanced warily at the lightsaber, though she made no move to take hold of her own. "We're going to Korriban."

"Why?" Rey questioned hotly, "What's on Korriban?"

Anya sighed, "The only people who you can count on to help save him. The Knights of Ren."  
***

 _A/N: Thank you to everyone who has read, followed, and reviewed. Please keep the reviews coming: I love hearing your thoughts!  
And, yes, I am so happy to finally be able to write Rey and Ben actually together in the same chapter._


	11. Chapter 11: Power and Serenity

_A/N: Thank you for all of the supportive comments! You readers make writing this fic worth all of the time and effort!  
_ ***  
Ben felt her presence long before he gathered enough strength to crack open his heavy eyelids.

Contrary to their previous, perilous circumstances, there was no immediate sense of danger clogging the atmosphere. So, for the first time in many years, he allowed his body the rest it so desperately cried out for.

Rey was awake and somewhere close by. Even as his conscious self had been pushed far under the waves of blessed nothingness, he hadn't been worried. Upon feeling the depth of Rey's concern and compassion for him as he drifted into unconsciousness on his father's blasted ship _,_ he had been certain that she would provide security as he slept.

Her consciousness seemed to him a bright, steady flame, drawing him ever closer into the pleasant depths of warmth that was distinctly _her._

Still, as deeply as he longed to bask in her comfortable light, he stayed in the shadows. Excruciating memories of being harshly burned by a warmth that felt much like hers held him back, wary of the consequences should he creep too closely.

" _Ben?"_ Tendrils of soothing thought shot sparks into his shadows, brushing them away and exposing the outer realms of his mind. " _Are you awake?"_

The sudden surge of hope in her mind temporarily blinded his senses.

" _Now I am."_ He reassured her, sinking back a bit into his own mind to shield his groggy consciousness from the onslaught of her optimistic emotions.

Rey responded in kind, likely sensing that the forceful brightness of her very self was overstimulating him at the moment.

Withdrawing from her felt deafening. It was as if a thick, woolen blanket shrouded him, dulling his senses.

The caverns of his own mind echoed ominously, so he stuck to the path clearly marked out in front of him. Glancing around, he noticed with an odd sensation of loss that much of his mind remained in shambles. The effort it would take to rebuild would be astronomical.

His thoughts looped strangely in places - memories taking forms that he instinctively felt were wrong. Without taking the time or effort to properly examine each memory, he couldn't be certain which portions were true and which were false.

Surprisingly, his most recent memories remained largely intact. Though, upon closer inspection, he realized that there were strands of white light binding the images together. The work had been done hastily, much like the work of a surgeon on a battlefield.

Looking around more carefully, Ben picked out the silky constellations of bright starlight dancing around his mind. He was absolutely certain none of that light had been there before.

 _Rey._

 _So this is what she was doing when she rifled around in my head_. She had been trying to put him back together. The thought made him smile.

Contrasting with Rey's starlight, thick, grey clouds drifted aimlessly.

Out of habit, he wandered closer to the clouds, pulling on the dark side energy pulsing from within. Drawing on the power, the wildfire swept through his mind, clearing out some of the cobwebs and restoring a bit of his mental fortitude.

As if from a vast distance, he could feel two opposing forces clashing hostilely, neither side willing to retreat an inch.

Apparently Skywalker was still holding back the majority of Snoke's power at bay.

" _Ben?"_ Rey tentatively called out, her airy voice bouncing playfully down the shaded corridors of his mind.

Turning away from the sounds of battle, Ben pulled himself from the wreckage of his less recent memories and moved purposefully towards the sapphire glow at the edges of his consciousness.

" _Is something wrong?"_ He questioned, sensing restrained tension curling underneath her calm exterior.

" _You need to wake up,"_ Rey commanded, tone stubborn and hard.

Sighing wearily, he complied, knowing that she would continue prodding at his mind until he did as she ordered.

Blinking slowly, Ben was relieved to find that the only light in the room came from a small, elegantly-carved lamp in the corner. The orange light cast eerie shadows - it's light extended out only in a short radius from the source, draping much of the room in welcomed darkness.

His eyes picked her form out almost instantly.

From the dim lighting, he couldn't make out much of her figure other than the dark outline.

"Sorry," Rey whispered, breaking the silence. "You had been out so long...I was starting to get worried."

"How long have I been asleep?" he spoke softly, matching her tone though he had no idea why. His throat was rough with disuse but, considering he had been largely unable to verbally form words last time he had been awake, the scratchiness bothered him less than it normally would.

"Almost a week." Though she fought vainly to keep the exhaustion from her voice, he picked up on it instantly. "I thought you were waking up a few days ago because you responded to me, but then you drifted off again."

"A few days ago?" _But that happened just minutes ago._ Surely it hadn't taken him a couple of days just to sift through his deconstructed mind.

"Anya kept telling me not to worry so much, that the Force was helping you heal, but...well, your consciousness kept fading in and out and it was getting harder to sense you." Her form shifted slightly, as though she was uncomfortable.

"How long have you been sitting in that chair?" he asked.

"Um…" Even in the darkness, Ben should tell she glanced away, "ever since we got here almost a week ago."

"You haven't slept?" he demanded. The thought made his head spin.

How could she so recklessly endanger her health? Hadn't she been poisoned?

"I've slept!" she insisted, much too quickly for him to fully believe.

"In the chair."

"Well, yes." she admitted, finally turning back to face him.

Relying more on his mental sense of her than on what his eyes could make out in the darkness, he could tell she was fighting to stay awake. Though for what possible reason, he was unable to glean.

Had she really just been watching him sleep? The thought was both comforting and disturbing.

"I don't trust them."

Ben blinked again, pulling himself from the mixture of confusing emotions he felt at the image of her watching over him. "...What?"

"Your knights - I don't trust them."

"My -" he froze. Reaching out through the Force, he quickly canvassed the entirety of the ancient structure they were residing in. Sure enough, five achingly familiar Force presences glowed nearby. Apparently, two were still on assignment.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he allowed his eyes to flutter closed. "We're on Korriban," he commented.

Rey's concern still hovered at the edges of his mind.

"Don't worry," he said, opening his eyes to look at her, "they won't hurt you."

The very thought was comical.

"How can you be sure?" she asked, clearly unconvinced.

"Because," he responded confidently, "they know that if they even look at you with a hint of disrespect, I'll chop them into a thousand tiny pieces."

If her recoiling presence was anything to go by, his reassurance didn't seem to have its intended result. "You would kill your friends for me?"

"They aren't my friends," he replied, racking his brain to try and solve why she wasn't comforted by the fact that his knights wouldn't _dare_ hurt her. "But, yes, I would kill them. They're expendable."

"Not your -" Rey stuttered, appearing taken aback. "Please tell me you wouldn't actually kill them."

"I absolutely would."

She huffed, displeased. "I don't like the thought of you killing people for me."

He would later blame his next words on his grogginess. "You didn't seem to mind too much when I killed Snoke." _Or the Praetorian guards. Or the stormtroopers. Or Phasma._

"That was," she stammered, picking up on his thoughts as he mentally listed the numerous people he had killed to protect her. "Those were incredibly different instances."

"How so?" he asked, genuinely confused as to how her mind failed to connect that death was simply death.

Unless you were powerful enough to become a Force ghost. Then death was never death. But that lesson hardly seemed relevant to the current topic.

"Because they're your friends!" she responded, insistent.

" _Not_ my friends," he repeated. Why was this a hard concept to grasp?

"Well," Rey demanded, her frustration pricking at his confusion, "what would _you_ call the people who seem ready to die for you?"

"That's easy," he answered without hesitation. "Subordinates. Minions. Lackeys."

Even in the dark, Ben could feel her eyes piercing him, could almost see the way she frowned at his reply.

"That's not the same thing."

"Exactly."

She huffed, crossing her arms in defiance. "I still think you're wrong."

"Of course you do," he replied, the realization hitting him as his thoughts raced to catch up. "You see people as individuals, each with their own unique personalities and quirks. In reality, we're all just flecks of dust. Ultimately useless. Expendable."

"Well that was morbid."

"It's the truth. Just ask anyone. No matter where on the spectrum you fall, the answer never changes, just the way you choose to respond."

'I have no idea what you're talking about," Rey cut in, sighing deeply. "You can explain it when I'm not so tired."

The mental walls she had constructed slid apart, allowing him to peek in through the cracks.

 _How is she still even awake?_ He wondered, feeling the weight of her physical exhaustion drop on him suddenly.

"Didn't they give you a room to sleep in?"

Fabric creaked as she shifted in the chair again. "Yes."

"Then go there and get some rest." At her hesitation, he started to push himself up on the bed. If she was going to be so idiotically stubborn, then maybe he'd just put her in a Force-induced coma until he was positive she was well-rested.

"Fine, I'll go to sleep!" Rey insisted, standing. " _You don't have to knock me out,"_ she mentally berated, having heard his intent.

Confident that he had won the pointless argument, Ben leaned back into his pillow and closed his eyes - grateful that he hadn't had to put her to sleep. What would he have done with her - left her on the floor? The floor might have proven to be more uncomfortable than the chair.

The unexpected dip of the mattress immediately halted his retreat back into the recesses of his consciousness.

Eyes snapping open, his brain refused to compute the fact that Rey had apparently decided to lie down on his bed. "Um - what -"

"You told me to go to sleep," she muttered, sounding annoyed as she burrowed under the pile of blankets.

"Yes- but...here?" _What is happening right now?_

"You wouldn't let me sleep in the chair," she answered, turning so that her back was to him, "and I certainly wasn't sleeping on the _floor_ ," he winced - she wasn't supposed to have heard that. "So, yes. Here."

"But-" he stammered, utterly confused. _Is this still about her not trusting my knights?_ "I told you, no one is going to hurt you."

"Maybe not," she replied, voice already heavy with sleep, "but _I_ might hurt _you_ if you keep talking."

He let the matter drop after that, recognizing that nothing he could say would change her mind. Plus, he held no doubts that Rey actually would injure him if he continued the argument.

Even after he had purposely shifted his position so that a wide expanse of empty space rested between them, he still found himself uncomfortable with her close proximity.

When they fought together, he had no issue with her being close by. In fact, the closer she was, the better. If she strayed too far from his side during a battle, then the chances of him reacting quickly enough to keep her safe dropped drastically.

Just like when she had recklessly charged at Phasma.

He had seen the trajectory of Phasma's blade, had noticed that Rey's footing was too off-balance for her to properly block the strike, but he had been too far away to do anything. Short of shoving Rey aside with the Force, he had had no other option than to continue mercilessly cutting his way through the stormtroopers stupid enough to try and halt his approach.

If Rey had been trained enough to know how to correct her stance, then he would have pushed her out of the way. As it was, the action would have placed her in more danger by throwing her completely off-balance and confusing her surroundings.

So he had been forced to watch the blade rip her skin, spilling her precious lifeblood onto the sterile floor.

As Supreme Leader, he understood why Phasma had rebelled against him. As she was a valuable ally, he had been prepared to punish her and move on, leaving her alive.

But the second her vibroblade had come in contact with Rey's flesh, Phasma had sealed her fate.

Now that Rey was safe - and apparently healed, though he still desired an explanation as to how that had occurred - he had no idea what to do.

Protecting her in battle was easy, it was natural. Escaping from the First Order had been exhilarating, though he never would have tried if she hadn't seemed determined to get him away.

But knowing she watched over him as he slept was disquieting.

He had been vulnerable - completely open to attack and she had done nothing to hurt him. Again.

Weren't they technically enemies? Shouldn't she be trying to kill him, not breaking him out of a cell and saving him from certain execution?

What was he supposed to do with the knowledge that Rey was trying to keep him safe?

 _Oh - that's what she meant…_

Turning his head on the pillow, Ben glanced cautiously over at the woman sleeping soundly in his bed. The faint light from the corner lamp did little to illuminate her features, but the relaxed slouch of her shoulders reassured him that his thoughts weren't drifting over and waking her up.

 _She wasn't worried about her own safety._

When Rey had first brought up her doubts about the loyalty of his knights, he had assumed that she had been too concerned with making certain she stayed alive to sleep peacefully. It made sense, then, that she would stick as close to him as possible, knowing that none of his knights would make a move against him - especially not while he was unconscious.

The realization that she had stayed to act as sentry and keep _him_ safe struck a chord deep within his heart.

While it was nearly impossible for him to imagine any of his knights causing him harm, Rey couldn't possibly have had the same assurances that they hadn't fallen into a trap.

After all, she had just rescued him from a different group of people who were supposedly loyal to him.

Ben exhaled slowly, desperately trying to work through the confusing tangle of emotions bombarding his brain.

When was the last time someone had protected him, not because they _had_ to, but because they had _wanted_ to - because they _cared_?  
***

Harsh red sunlight burned his skin, but Ben hardly noticed - it had been too long since the last time he had spent any considerable time on the surface of a planet without fighting for his life.

Even though the cracked, dry surface of Korriban wasn't particularly inviting to gaze upon, he found it invigorating to simply stand still and let his eyes drift across the broken planet.

Once hale and flourishing, Korriban had long ago succumbed to the destructive nature of the dark side. Where many thousands of years ago great forests had stood strong, now only rocky hills remained.

The planet itself hummed with energy, calling out to the power he possessed. He had chosen this planet as headquarters for his knights many years ago because of that ever tangible presence of dark side power.

Though the planet had once been a mighty Sith stronghold and temple, those ages had vanished with the rise of Darth Bane. Sith tombs which dotted the planet's surface held nothing of great importance, only fatal traps left behind by their creators - everything of value had been stolen eons ago.

Yet, the Force had remained strong, overflowing from the core of the planet, ensuring that nothing grew.

The Jedi loathed the place. Perhaps that had been another reason he had chosen it, knowing that his uncle would never dare come near the planet.

Staring out now at the cracked, obsidian spires and mounded tombs of bygone eras, Ben couldn't help but make comparisons between the planet's surface and his present mental state.

The dark side had corrupted both.

"It is relieving to see you standing." Reflexively, Ben reached for the lightsaber clipped to his belt.

He had not sensed her approach.

Though, now that Anya stood before him, he could feel the Force pulsing brightly.

"What are you doing here?" Folding his arms behind his back gave his hands something to do. The action made him seem more in control - more like the leader his knights thought him to be.

"It seemed irresponsible to allow Rey to board an enemy starship alone." Anya's voice was as calm and soft as it had ever been. It was unnerving.

"How prudent," he replied, attempting to keep his voice from betraying any of fatigue and weariness he was feeling. "But why were you with her in the first place?"

Anya cocked her head, a slight frown pulling at the edges of her composed expression. "I was responding to your urgent message."

A flicker of memory called to him, though it quickly lost its luster and pulled away before he could recall the images and sounds associated. "What message?"

Anya reached into a tan belt hanging loosely on her belt, pulling out a worn, rusted transponder.

Identical to the one he always carried, except his had remained pristine.

"Oh," confusion swirled through his mind, "that message."

"Do you not remember?" she asked, hints of concern cracking through her soft, even tone.

"Of course I do," he lied. _What in the blazes is going on? Krillien should have that transponder, not her._

"You've been training Rey," the words tasted of sawdust.

"Of course," she responded lightly, "you asked me to."

Korriban's heat suddenly seemed unbearable.

"Since when do you do as I ask?" _You ran from the conflict - you abandoned your brother. Where is he now?_

"I traveled to Dxun to assist Rey, not because you asked it of me. My conscience would not allow me to ignore a young Jedi in need of training. "

"Dxun? Why were you on Dxun? _Don't tell me that's where the Resistance has been hiding._

"I lived on Onderon for the past three years," Anya stated, dark blue eyes watching him carefully, "so I felt her arrival on Dxun when the Resistance landed. Likely, I would have gone to her whether you asked it of me or not."

Years of habit were difficult to ignore. "Is the Resistance still on Dxun?"

"Yes."

Learning the location of the remaining members of the Resistance sparked in him a desire for action. _What action? Obliterating them? Sending his knights to cut them all down?_

Rey would not be pleased.

But he could end this pathetic war once and for all.

Anya stepped closer, her heeled boots striking discordently on the rocky surface. "What will you do with this information - Kylo Ren?"

Her calculated tone paused his wild thoughts.

What would he do? He no longer had the backing of the First Order - that bridge had been utterly destroyed.

Could he step aside, pretend he didn't know where the Resistance was hiding, and let them live?

Could he push away years of effort?

Stepping past Anya, he rushed inside, desperate to get away.

If he did anything, Rey would hate him.

If he did nothing, he might hate himself.

 _I have no idea what to do.  
***_

A/N: Okay, so I promise that you'll get to meet more of the Knights of Ren next chapter - it seemed odd to introduce them in this chapter since Ben/Kylo already knows them.


	12. Chapter 12: Order and Chaos

_A/N: In case anyone is wondering, all of the members of the Knights of Ren are my OCs. Since very little information has actually been given in canon, I created names and backstories for each member, though I don't go much into the backstories since this fic doesn't revolve around them.  
Without further ado, I give you chapter twelve.  
***_

Rey awoke to heavily-shaded red light slipping through the cracks of the thick, black blinds covering the room's single window. Unlike on Dxun, no chirping wildlife sounds pierced her ears to help drive the grogginess from her body.

They had been on Korriban for a week now and the oppressive atmosphere still shocked her.

When the _Falcon_ had approached Korriban, she had expected to find a similar climate to Jakku. The planet's ruddy color and arid deserts had led her to believe that Korriban was simply another backwater planet, forgotten by the majority of the galaxy due to its commonplaceness.

As soon as the _Falcon_ broke through the planet's atmosphere, however, Rey had been forced to sit down, completely overwhelmed by the intensity of dark side power. The very air hummed with the tantalizing energy, assaulting Rey's senses, slipping through the cracks of her mind.

Fear sank its tendrils into her thoughts, vivid and strong, shoving its claws deep into her consciousness. Rey had struggled to resist, to call upon the light side to defend herself, but the fear was too all-consuming.

Shaking, she had slipped from her rickety chair, falling heavily onto the metal-plated floor.

With every passing second, she had been absolutely positive that her mind would cave in, collapsing like a dying star under the pressure of the dark side.

There was so much she didn't understand - so much of the Force that still lay shrouded in mystery. Every time the picture seemed to grow even the tiniest bit clearer, more questions appeared, clambering for her attention.

What did the Jedi really believe? The ancient texts had done little to enlighten her, though that was in large part due to their being written in a long-dead language.

If the Force was truly in all beings, then why could only some people feel its presence?

Was her sensitivity to the Force a blessing or a curse?

Clearing her head of the confounding memory and refocusing on the present proved challenging. Questions still plagued her mind - the moral and philosophical conundrums that she had never considered while living on Jakku suddenly seemed essential.

It was as if the very fate of the galaxy rested on her ability to understand the Force.

This all-encompassing darkness on Korriban that pressed upon her mind from every side lacked the tempting pull of the shadow in the lake. Whereas that darkness had made her feel powerful, invincible, this darkness reared ominously in the background of her mind, threatening to crush her.

During the days she had spent meticulously watching over Ben as his mind fought to regain itself, she had tried to meditate in an effort to provide some form of stability to the churning power of the Force.

But no matter how hard she focused on calling out to the light which had always before surrounded her, darkness from the very heart of Korriban rose up to block her efforts. After a few days of trying and failing, Rey had resigned to defeat, leaning only on the brightness which stemmed from her own connection to the Force.

Which is why she had been so startled when, three days after arriving on Korriban, Ben's consciousness had suddenly brushed against hers, scattering the shadows that had threatened to close in around her.

The connection had quickly faded as Ben had pulled back in on himself, retreating into solitude. And the darkness once again crept closer.

Then, last night, when Ben had awoken for real, she had felt the darkness recede again, slinking away from her consciousness.

At the time, she had thought nothing of it, focused only on her complete relief that Ben had woken up at all. The more she thought about it, however, the more confused she became.

She knew what she had felt the moment Ben's consciousness had reconnected with her own. But how could it be possible?

How could someone who relied on the power of the dark side act as her anchor to the light? How was he keeping Korriban's power from infecting her mind?

Did he even realize what he was doing?

As grateful as Rey was that her burden had been eased, she couldn't help but feel guilty. _By helping me, is he draining himself? He should be focused on getting himself better, not worrying about me - I can take care of myself._

For as much as Anya had claimed that the Force was healing him, Rey couldn't help but worry that the healing wasn't happening nearly fast enough.

What if the destruction of his mind simply continued?

Whatever ritual Anya and the Knights of Ren - Rey grimaced at the name - were preparing in order to cast Snoke from Ben's mind once and for all had to wait until Ben was stronger.

But how long could they afford to wait?

For the moment, something powerful was diverting Snoke's attention, giving Ben time to regain his strength. But there was no telling how long this reprieve would last.

Anxious to be doing something other than lie around and agonize over the infinite number of things that could easily go wrong, Rey pushed aside the pile of blankets she had crawled under much earlier that morning and stood to her feet.

Rey was unsurprised to find that Ben had gotten up at some point and left - she had figured he wasn't the type of person to willingly lay around and rest, even if he still desperately needed to. Vaguely, she could recall a gentle pressure on the edges of her consciousness, assuring her that nothing was wrong and that she could continue sleeping. She supposed he had been the one to pull the blinds back over the large window - she knew for a fact that they had been open last night.

 _It's strange,_ she reflected on her Force connection, _now that we're in the same corner of the galaxy - on the same planet and in the same building - the bond is so much stronger. Besides the fact that he isn't shutting me out as blatantly, his emotions are so much more tangible, so much stronger since the expanse of space isn't separating us._

Considering from past experiences that what happened to one of them tended to happen to both, Rey assumed that her emotions had also become much easier for Ben to decipher. The thought was both comforting and extraordinarily terrifying.

Communicating with someone through your mind was one thing, but having all of your deepest, darkest thoughts and emotions splayed out for another soul to read was completely different.

Rey crossed to the other side of the room, grateful to find that the silver-plated washing bowl had been replenished at some point. Splashing a bit of the lukewarm water on her face helped drive back a bit of her remaining tiredness.

Memories of last night's events bubbled to the surface of her mind.

Perhaps her audacity should have shocked her, maybe it should have caused embarrassment. Possibly someone else would have thought it odd or wrong that she and Ben had shared a bed, but it had seemed like the most logical response at the time. After all, how was she supposed to keep him safe if they weren't even in the same room?

 _Oh,_ Rey thought with a stunning moment of clarity, _that's what "sleeping with the enemy means."_

Across their connection, Rey felt the swirling vortex of Ben's thoughts come to a screeching halt as he turned his attention away from whatever he was doing and mingled his consciousness with hers. " _...Please tell me that's not actually what you think that phrase implies."_

Rey frowned, confused. " _What else would it possibly mean?"_

" _Just think about it."_

" _I am,"_ she replied, annoyed. " _It's a pretty clear statement: Sleeping is sleeping."_

A deep, melodious sound echoed down their connection. The sound momentarily took Rey by surprise. " _I've never heard you laugh before."_ she commented, focused more on the pleasant warmth flooding her senses than on whatever had brought on this uncharacteristic show of mirth.

Rey had expected her words to cut off his laughter, as so often happened whenever she pointed out the many ways in which he acted differently around her as opposed to anyone else.

Instead, her comment seemed to have the opposite reaction because he simply laughed louder.

" _So you_ do _have a sense of humor after all,"_ Rey mused, feeling her own spirits lift in response to the unusually bright light emanating from his side of the connection.

The brightness sparked in Rey a reminder of her earlier ponderings. " _Where are you? I need to talk to you about something - in person."_

Ben must have sensed the shift in her thoughts because his laughter stopped abruptly. The brightness diminished, leaving Rey feeling colder than before. " _I'm near a terrace on the opposite side of the temple. I'll meet you in the old training rooms - we can speak there."_

A map of the structure floated in front of Rey's mind, detailing the fastest route. " _You should stop at the mess hall on your way."_

Just as Rey was about to call him out on his military terminology, his consciousness receded from hers, leaving the imprint of a map in her mind.  
***

 _This was a temple?_

The black marble walls and matching floor didn't inspire images of a grand temple. _Looks more like a fancy prison._ The strike of her boots on the hard flooring echoed ominously down the long corridor.

Every so often, she had to side-step around a deep crack in the otherwise shiny and unblemished floor. _What happened here?_

With each step Rey took, she grew more and more grateful that Ben had thought to provide her with a mental map - even though she wasn't entirely certain how he had projected that image through their Force bond. Without it, she would have been lost in a matter of minutes. It seemed that every time she glanced up, another opening appeared either to her right or left, leading upwards and downwards in a mesh of twisting, turning hallways.

Thankfully, the path Ben had set her on was rather straightforward and did not include her wandering into any of the dark, yawning caverns.

Minutes ticked by so slowly within the confines of the temple that by the time Rey reached the spot on her mental map labeled "mess hall," she would have sworn that she had been walking for hours, not barely ten minutes.

She hesitated outside of the open doorway - the bright lights and numerous voices from within the spacious room made her consider bypassing food altogether and continuing down to the training rooms, whatever those actually were.

But, it had been almost a full day since Anya had brought her her last meal and it was likely unwise to train on an empty stomach.

At least, she hoped she would be able to squeeze in some training. If her amuatur slip-up during her duel with Phasma was any indication, she still had a long way to go before she was comfortable wielding the lightsaber Anya had loaned her.

Squaring her shoulders, Rey stepped into the room, sending a wary glance to the room's three other occupants. Since arriving on Korriban, she had only briefly met each of the knights who were currently on the planet. Those introductions, however, had been the perfect amount of time for her to realize that none of them were the type of people she would ever consider "friends."

 _To be fair,_ Rey thought, uneasy with the way the men had straightened upon her entrance and were now staring at her with open curiosity, _I never would have considered Ben an ally before we were bonded._

"Ah, the newcomer." Though he was only a couple of inches taller than herself, the man who addressed her struck an imposing figure: His bald head and dark complexion only highlighted his bloodshot, red eyes. He was a man composed mainly of muscle, but Rey refused to let herself be deceived into thinking that he was a slow brute - the way his eyes carefully tracked her every move reaffirmed her intuitive suspicions that he was much more than a well-built weapon.

"We've been wondering when we would get to see you again," the second man spoke up in a clear, musical tone. Rey glanced his way next, though she made certain to stay close enough to the doorway in case she had to make a quick escape.

The second man - Seire, she recalled - felt more dangerous than Damien, though that observation would have sounded insane to anyone who was not Force sensitive. Behind the man's tall, lithe figure and inconspicuous, shy smile, Rey could sense a great well of dark side energy, just waiting to be released.

Still, she comforted herself with the fact that any power she felt pulsing through these men paled in comparison to the power she and Ben possessed. If it came down to a fight - for, as much as Ben had tried to reassure her last night that none of his knights would ever strike against her, she had a difficult time seeing these dangerous men as "loyal" - she felt confident that they could win.

" _Who are we fighting?"_ The tightness in Ben's tone reminded Rey to reel in the anxiety she was feeling.

" _No one."_ She responded quickly, sensing his anger simmering just beneath the surface. " _I'm not in danger, I promise."_

Rey felt him reluctantly withdraw. Unsatisfied by her assurances, he kept their connection open more widely than it had been seconds prior.

She really needed to get a better handle on what thoughts and emotions she allowed to broadcast across their connection.

"I was starting to think Ren was keeping you hidden on purpose," Damien commented, unfazed by her defensive stance.

"You must be feeling lucky," Seire added, stepping around the large circular table the men had gathered around before she entered.

"Lucky?" Rey questioned, forcing herself to remain rooted in place.

"That you were chosen to be his apprentice," the thin man clarified.

 _Apprentice? Not hardly._ She internally scoffed at the very idea.

Outwardly, she did not react, unsure how best to respond. _I really just want to get food and get out of here._

"It's an honor - one that should not be easily dismissed." Seire's pale, yellow eyes unnerved her and she looked away, glancing over at the fresh bread spread out on the table, just out of reach.

"You must be very powerful indeed," Damien noted, eyeing her with all the calculation of a predator.

"Then perhaps you should stop pestering the woman and allow her room to breathe." Out of all the knights she had been introduced to, Tahl was the only one that did not cause Rey's hand to immediately grip her lightsaber.

He was of average height and his build lay somewhere in the middle of Damien's and Seire's. Having both strength and speed, as well as a palpable dark side energy, Rey thought she ought to be most wary around him. Perhaps it was because he appeared the less hardened, but Rey found she could not outright despise the silver-haired young man.

Having noticed her eyeing the food, Tahl picked up the chunk of bread and held it out to her. "Nimick is out hunting now so there will be a much more filling meal to come tonight."

Rey didn't say anything as she carefully took the bread from his hand, some deep, primal part of her afraid that this was somehow a trap to get her to lower her defenses so that they could strike.

" _Do I need to come over there?"_ Ben demanded, again reacting to the fear twisting deep inside her. Through their connection, Rey could feel the mixture of his emotions slamming against her consciousness. The overwhelming surge of protectiveness she felt wash over her senses was surprising.

" _No - I can handle it."_

" _Handle what, exactly?"_ As though he was standing directly next to her, Rey heard the unmistakable hum of Ben igniting his lightsaber.

" _Calm down."_ She ordered, as much to him as to herself. " _I'm just uncomfortable, that's all. They aren't doing anything."_

" _Is it Damien?"_ He questioned, completely ignoring the feeble sensations of peace she tried to send his way. " _Did he threaten you?"_

Gruesome images assaulted her mind, all sharing the common theme of the creative ways in which Ben was fantasizing murdering one of his knights. The manners of death ranged from simple decapitation to somehow creating a whirlwind of dark side energy strong enough to tear flesh from bone.

" _Please stop,"_ Rey pleaded, her stomach churning at the all-too real possibilities laid out before her eyes.

She suddenly lacked all appetite.

"I have to go," Rey muttered to the three men all staring in confusion at her glazed expression. "I have something I have to take care of."

Clutching the bread only out of years of habit, Rey turned and walked as quickly as she dared from the room. As soon as she had crossed the threshold and was out of sight, she broke into a run, desperate to put as much space between her and the knights as possible.

Her breath came in ragged gasps, but still she didn't stop. Without giving it any thought, she ran along the path marked out for her as though following a trail of wispy, red light which only she could see.

As before, she mainly ignored the maze of hallways. Briefly, she wondered what secrets lay down in the caverns underneath the main floor of the temple - probably darker and more dangerous secrets that she should have nothing to do with.

Focused as she was on simply getting away from the images of death plaguing her mind, Rey failed to notice how her mental map disappeared, signifying her arrival at the training rooms, until her head collided painfully with Ben's chest.

"Is someone chasing you?" He demanded, gripping her shoulders tightly to help her regain her balance.

"No," she responded, physically and mentally pushing him away.

His concern gnawed at the edges of her mind. The intense heat of it was almost too much for her to bare.

Blessedly, as his concern grew his anger diminished, scattering the violent images from her mental sight. "Don't do that again." she panted, trying to catch her breath even as the air felt much too thin. "I don't want to see that. I don't want you to kill them."

"Oh." Rey couldn't help the frown that pulled down her lips at his suddenly distant and far-too-even tone. "I should have realized you didn't require my assistance."

A flash of anger tore through her mind as she took in his posture: back ridgid, hands clasped behind his back, face emotionless. "You can't hide from me, _Ben._ "

Unconcerned with the way his consciousness recoiled at her harsh tone, Rey continued mentally pushing at the thin walls of his mind, allowing all of her disdain concerning the persona of Kylo Ren to slide across their bond. " _Stop trying to be someone you aren't - it's frustrating."_

" _You think this isn't me?"_ He responded mentally, voice still monotonous. " _This is just as much me as Ben Solo."_

" _No, it isn't,"_ Rey argued. How could she get him to see that he didn't have to pretend around her?

" _You think you know me better than I know myself?"_ His tone lacked any hostility - it seemed he was merely curious to know the answer.

Rey paused, carefully considering her words. " _I think you're stuck in a loop; I don't think you've ever really known who you really are - that's why you created this whole persona in the first place: To try and find yourself."_

"Isn't that precisely what you've done?" He asked, eyeing her critically. "You're so desperate to make everyone believe you're confident - invincible, even - because you long to feel that way about yourself. But the truth is, you still have no idea who you actually are. So you pretend and hope that no one sees the fear lurking beneath your brave facade."

Rey wanted to argue that she wasn't afraid, that putting on a brave face was wholly different from shutting off your emotions and turning into an unfeeling, murderous maniac. But, she realized regretfully, their ways of coping with the harsh realities of life were not really so different.

"' _Unfeeling, murderous maniac,' huh?"_ A small smirk appeared on Ben's face as Rey felt her whole body freeze with the realization that he had heard her thoughts. " _That description might be more unkind than my fleeting thought that you sleep on the floor."_

Agitated, Rey began to pace. "Okay, seriously, we _have_ to figure out some boundaries - this whole "hearing each other's thoughts" thing is getting out of hand."

"I agree," Ben responded, relaxing slightly from his strict military stance, "though it is proving to be rather humorous."

"I don't think humor is enough of a good reason to keep hearing one another's thoughts constantly."

"Perhaps not."

"So what do we do about it?" He shrugged lightly in response. "You're no help." Rey commented, more annoyed with the situation than with him.

"Is this why you needed to see me: to discuss our bond?" It unnerved Rey how easily Ben switched back and forth between sounding like the former Supreme Leader and sounding like her ally - _maybe even "friend" now._ As distracted as she was with the million thoughts swirling around her head, the idea of Ben actually being her friend made her smile.

"Among other things, yes." Rey answered, trying to keep her thoughts to herself. Whether he heard her call him a "friend" and simply chose not to respond, or she was successful in keeping the thought from floating over to him was anyone's guess.

"I have a lot of questions I was hoping you could answer," she continued. "Though, the first one is why all of your knights keep assuming I'm your apprentice. What is all that about?"

"Of course," he muttered, looking a bit taken aback by her question, "I should have seen this coming."

Rey waited impatiently for him to answer her question.

"It's the Rule of Two," he unhelpfully supplied.

"The what?"

" _Oh, right - you wouldn't know what that means."_ The thought wasn't condescending so much as it was him realizing the depth of her ignorance and utter lack of training. "The Rule of Two," Ben began in the most instructive tone Rey had ever heard, "is the first and most important law of the Sith, originally constructed and handed down by Darth Bane a few thousand years ago. In an effort to shorten the tale, all you really need to know is that before the Rule of Two, there was constant infighting among the Sith - well, The Brotherhood of Darkness, as they called themselves then.

"Due to the never-ending backstabbing and petty squabbles, the Brotherhood was never successful in taking down the Jedi Order. Eventually, Darth Bane was able to trick the Brotherhood into decimating themselves by playing to their overwhelming desire for power. Then, being the only remaining Sith, he took an apprentice and instigated the Rule of Two which dictates that there can never be more than two Sith at any given time - or else the infighting might again cause dissention."

Rey's mind spun in confusion. "But wait, then how do you have an entire order of knights? Doesn't that break the rule?"

"No, none of them were ever technically Sith."

"But you were?" He nodded in reply. "So what are they?"

"Fallen Jedi - though the actual term is "Dark Jedi" but no one really uses that phrase any longer. All it means is that they rejected the Jedi teachings and now use the Force for their gains."

"And they think I'm your apprentice," Rey said, musing over all of the new information. "So does that make you in charge of the Sith now?"

"I suppose it would," Rey noticed the carefully-guarded expression on his face, "if I had chosen to follow that path. But I told you before, it's time to let the past die."

Rey didn't respond; a flood of emotions washed over her as she recalled her emotions the last time he had said those words. She was grateful that he didn't try to offer her the galaxy again. Maybe he was learning.

"Ironically," Ben continuing, apparently not hearing her thoughts, "I did exactly what was expected of me when I killed Snoke."

"What?" Rey stuttered, confusion evident on her face. "He was clearly surprised that you killed him."

"He was," Ben agreed. "However, the Rule of Two also dictates that in order for an apprentice to become the master, they have to kill their master and prove they are worthy to carry on the tradition of the Sith."

"That sounds extremely convoluted," Rey remarked, uneasy with the strong emphasis placed on murder.

" _If you keep thinking in terms of "right and wrong," you won't understand it."_ Ben sighed, offering no further commentary on the history of the Sith.

"So…" Rey began in an effort to keep some sort of conversation going, "about my other questions -"

"Right," he nodded, seeming distracted. "Go ahead."

Rey wasn't entirely sure how to bring up the topic in a way that wouldn't make Ben immediately defensive, but she had to know, had to be sure. "You keep insisting that your knights are loyal and that they won't hurt me, but then you also keep threatening to kill them. So, which is it: Do you trust them or not?"

He glanced away, but Rey didn't need to see the look on his face to feel the tension hanging between them. "There is a very big difference between trusting someone and knowing they won't turn against you," he replied, voice low and uneasy in tenor.

"So you don't trust them?" Rey pressed, hoping to get either a clear "yes" or "no." _I need to know how watchful to be around them._

Ben hesitated and turned away so that his back was to her. "There are only two people in the galaxy I trust," he admitted, "and you're one of them."  
***

 _A/N: Thank you all for reading! I absolutely love reading all of your comments - thank you for taking the time to leave me reviews. You all are amazing and constantly make my day._


	13. Chapter 13: Wielder of the Flame

_A/N: Alright, you actually get a lightsaber duel in this chapter - I know, it's what you've all been waiting for!_

 _Thank you to everyone who has reviewed!  
_ ***

Ben still hadn't fully decided what to do about the problematic Resistance.

As such, he was avoiding Anya as much as he possibly could. She would undoubtedly bring up the topic again, as determined as she was to apparently test him. Though what the purpose of the test was, he was still figuring out.

Avoiding her had proven easier than he assumed, thanks in large part to the fact that he had spent the majority of the past nine days answering Rey's countless questions about the Force: How it worked, what exactly you could do with it, why there was such a distinction drawn between light and dark.

Her incessant questioning proved to be a welcome distraction from the battle still being waged in the deep recesses of his mind. Neither force seemed to be gaining any ground, locked as they were in a fairly-even fight. Still, he tried not to focus too hard on the sounds of battle as it was all-too-easy to be dragged in. Knowing his luck, he would likely spend another few days unconscious if he again tried to assess his mental state.

So, for now at least, he was barely functioning.

Though, if he was being perfectly honest with himself, he was grateful to be functioning at all.

Rey's persistent distrust of his knights made him wary, watching for any sign of disloyalty to the point of paranoia. It hardly mattered if his mind fractured more due to this new source of suspicion, as long as Rey was safe.

In an effort to ensure her safety, he had gotten into the habit of placing a small, inconspicuous Forcefield outside her chamber door at night. While he could have easily taught Rey how to construct one herself so as not to drain his own strength, he found he preferred keeping the task his own. This way, he would know even before their Force bond kicked in if she was in danger.

As she had yet to bring up the Forcefield - and he was positive she would have had some strong words for him about how she could protect herself - he was confident that Rey had yet to realize what he was doing.

For the past few days, Rey had been pestering him to let her train with whatever lightsaber Anya had given her - though where Anya had managed to find a double-bladed lightsaber was a question he had been continuously wanting to ask, except that he would have had to speak to Anya in order to get any answers.

So, in order to appease Rey, he had finally agreed last night that he would show her some of the forms of lightsaber combat.

Now, in the harsh heat of the early morning, he wished he hadn't been so quick to agree.

"No," he sighed wearily, pointing toward the staff that he had made her fetch off of the _Falcon_. "Start with that - I don't want you accidentally chopping off part of yourself."

 _I'm already exhausted and we haven't even begun - this does not bode well._ Lately, it had been getting harder to hide his fatigue from Rey, bonded as they were. As much as he tried to keep his thoughts from drifting across their connection when he didn't want them shared, it was infinitely more challenging to control which emotions of his she was able to feel.

Thankfully, she was too annoyed with his order at the moment to recognize how tired he was. "You do realize I've used a lightsaber before, right?" She demanded, hands tightly gripping her staff. "In fact, I seem to remember beating you."

He understood that she was simply trying to goad him into letting her train with a lightsaber. "Yes, I remember." That confrontation was nigh impossible to forget - the scar served merely as a reminder of his failure.

Bare hand shielding his eyes from the glaring sun, he surveyed the courtyard in an attempt to determine the best location for Rey to practice her drills. _Somewhere shaded would be preferable - I don't want her to die due to heat exhaustion._

Unfortunately, the only heavily-shaded area of the courtyard lay directly under a crumbling section of tower. He wasn't too keen on having Rey crushed by falling debris.

Large sections of the courtyard were cracked down to the foundation and completely unusable.

The only other option available was the wide-open middle portion of the courtyard itself. But even at dawn, the light-brown stone flooring was already baked from the sun. The ancient Sith, it seemed, hadn't been too concerned with comfort. _What a shock._

"The first thing you need to know about lightsaber combat," he began, directing a rather petulant-looking Rey to the middle of the courtyard, "is that there are seven forms, each tailored to a different fighting style."

"Normally," he continued, ignoring the steadily-increasing dull ache in his head, "your training would begin with learning the first three forms - Shii-Cho, a highly simplistic form that is utterly useless in lightsaber duels; Makashi, which is a bit more complicated than Form I and is mainly used in lightsaber vs lightsaber combat; and Soresu, which relies heavily on defense, sometimes to the detriment of offensive strikes. However, since you already have a _little," high emphasis on little, Rey,_ "training, I'm going to start you with Form VI and see how you do."

From a completely impractical standpoint he would have preferred to teach Rey Soresu, if for no other reason than keeping her safe - if she was solely on the defensive, it would be much easier for him to watch her in battle as she would primarily be standing in one place.

However, knowing Rey's reckless nature, he knew it would be idiotic not to teach her how to be the best duelist she could be, given that she would likely charge the enemy even if he only taught her defensive skills. And, as much as he might wish it, he knew it was impossible to constantly be at her side.

So, against his illogical - and possibly emotional, though he would never admit to that - desires, he spent the next hour instructing Rey how to use Form VI.

The Niman form had been perfected by Sith Lord Exar Kun when he crafted the first double-bladed lightsaber. Ironically, however, the form itself had been designed by the Jedi as a way to combat the "overly-aggressive" techniques in Forms IV and V, primarily used the by Sith since they relied more on power and brute strength rather than a conscientious, moderate view that held better to the Jedi philosophy. After all, 'power' was not a Jedi-friendly term.

Ben found he was grateful that Rey didn't question how he knew each of the forms so well - teaching her was hard enough without memories of his Jedi training pricking at his mind.

Form VI was Krillien's form of choice, though it also had been the one that Luke had tried to teach all of his students - after the basics of the first three forms had been mastered. Unfortunately, much of their training in the Nimon style had been cut short due to a wholly unplanned, sort-of accidental massacre.

It had been rather frustrating having to figure Form V out for himself since Skywalker had absolutely refused to even teach him the basics. _In hindsight, it probably should have been more obvious from the beginning that I didn't fit in with the strict, harmonious Jedi ways._

Ultimately, it had been Skywalker's refusal to instruct him in a form which Luke himself had often utilized that had led Ben to realize how hypocritical the old man truly was.

Snoke, on the other hand, had been all too willing to encourage his training in the much more aggressive, Sith-minded forms.

He had never managed to fully grasp the complexities of Form VII - it wasn't so much that the emphasis on power or the combination of the best portions from all of the other forms proved too difficult. Rather, it had become increasingly evident that he was simply too reckless for the precision Juyo demanded.

Perhaps he could have learned Form VII better if he had more of a stable control over his emotions.

"How long -" Rey panted, leaning wearily on her staff, "do I have to practice these drills?"

His eyes slid away from the dusty crags he had unknowingly been observing for the past ten minutes and critically took in Rey's sweat-drenched form. Loose strands of brown hair clung to her face and neck. Though her body must have been aching by this point, her crystal-clear blue eyes were still alight with that accursed, ever-present spark of hope. Of warmth. Of light.

Maybe he was pushing her too hard.

He would not train her to be a Jedi, but he could teach her enough to survive. Surely sharing those small bits of knowledge wouldn't tear at his soul.

" _Ben?"_ Cautiously, she poked at his consciousness with all the sophistication of an aggrieved child.

Or maybe he wasn't pushing her hard enough. After all, she had been the one to bring up lightsaber training in the first place.

But if he was actually going to trust her to hold her own in a battle then she needed to be prepared.

If she was truly concerned with keeping him safe - for some inexplicable reason, it seemed to be her current driving focus - then he needed to be absolutely certain that she wouldn't prove to be deadweight.

"Do you want to take a break or are you just bored of the repetition?" He asked briskly, covering for his momentary lapse.

She scowled in reply, somehow attempting to tighten her grip on the slick staff.

Ben understood why she was truly unhappy, but there was no way he was going to allow her to practice any of these forms with an actual lightsaber. Not yet.

 _Doesn't she realize you can't just pick it up and start swinging?_

"You've barely been out here for an hour," he said, amused by her stubbornness. "I know it's tedious work, but you'll be grateful for the endurance during a battle."

" _Besides,"_ he mentally added, figuring Rey would be able to pick up on his thoughts since he didn't try particularly hard to shield her from them, " _we used to train for five hours a day. Be grateful I'm not making you do that."_

" _Five hours?"_ Her disbelief was palpable, " _That's ridiculous."_

" _Two hours in the morning practicing basic drills, two hours in the afternoon learning new skills, and one hour in the evening to ensure we retained the day's lessons."_

" _Did you ever do anything_ besides _train?"_ She questioned, a warm sense of harmless curiosity floated across their bond. " _I mean, I know Snoke-"_

" _No,"_ he interrupted quickly, unwilling to discuss the rigorous, oftentimes-painful training regimine his former master had devised. Rey worried about him enough as it was - she certainly didn't need _those_ memories of his clogging up her mind. " _The five-hour schedule was my uncle's philosophy on lightsaber training."_

If the way Rey's already luminescent Force presence brightened at his words was any indication, she had caught his slip-up seconds after he himself had.

 _Damn._ Until recently - the past few months ever since Rey had first entered his life, really - he had encountered few problems distancing himself from the majority of his family and their suffocating legacy.

But around Rey, it was harder to hide that part of himself.

It most certainly didn't help that she often thought about General Organa and Han Solo - he resolutely refused to refer to them by any other term. Especially not seconds after he had messed up and called Skywalker his uncle.

"You should keep practicing," he instructed, attempting to keep his voice as even as possible.

He knew Rey felt him withdraw his consciousness. She didn't say anything, but the pained expression on her face was all too easy to read.  
***

The next half-hour ticked by slowly.

Tension lay thick in the air. Whether the tension originated between himself and Rey as a result of him purposely blocking her from entering his mind, or whether it came from the steadily-increasing pressure deep inside his own consciousness, Ben could not tell.

"It's impressive how quickly she's picking this up," Tahl commented appraisingly. "But, of course, she has a good teacher."

Ben glanced at the energetic young man standing a few paces away out of the corner of his eye, but made no reply. _I only taught her the basics,_ he wanted to say, _she just has natural talent._ Of course, natural talent could only take a person so far - his entire family was living proof of that.

As Tahl stepped closed, Ben was infinitely grateful that Rey could not listen in on their conversation. "Any word from Serie concerning the Resistance?" he questioned, making sure to keep his voice as quiet as possible.

"Not yet," Tahl replied, lowering his naturally loud and vibrant tone to match Ben's.

"When you next communicate with him," Ben responded, glancing warily at Rey to ensure she was still otherwise occupied, "make certain you stress that this mission is reconnaissance only. He is not to engage _any_ of the rebel fighters." _Rey would never forgive me if I ordered the destruction of her friends._ "Am I clear?"

"I will ensure he understands his mission parameters, Sir."

Ben knew he was risking a heated confrontation with Rey if she found out that he was considering the fate of her beloved Resistance. Though he was constantly befuddled by her unshakable loyalty to a group of people she had met only months prior, he understood that, if forced to choose between the Resistance or him, she would always choose her allies.

Which was precisely why he had only sent Serie as a spy - to gather intelligence so that he could make a more informed decision.

Perhaps it was only delaying the inevitable. But he would do whatever was required to spend as much time with Rey as possible before their divisive philosophies again drove them apart.

He was, however, unwilling to simply let the Resistance continue to thrive.

After all, if it hadn't been for Rey and her unexpected interference in his life, the Resistance would have been demolished months ago.

The thought of another New Republic somehow rising from the ashes was physically sickening.

" _Ben?"_ As the sapphire glow of her consciousness came into view, he hastily scattered his previous thoughts, letting his rampant emotions die down into a simmering pool of mock calmness that he hoped would be convincing enough.

" _Everything alright?"_ If Tahl hadn't been present in the courtyard, Ben might have smiled. Rey's hesitant, yet ever-present concern had that effect on him.

" _You shouldn't allow yourself to become so easily distracted,"_ he reprimanded.

Inwardly, where only he and Rey could see, he grimaced as Rey twisted a bit too far on one of her practice parries and the staff slammed into her ankle. " _And if you had been training with a lightsaber, you would have just lost your foot."_

Even when her momentary embarrassment turned into annoyance at him for his comment, Ben did not regret pointing out her flaw - Rey had to understand the extreme ramifications that could occur with even the most minor of errors in form.

" _I've used lightsabers before,"_ she reminded him, completely unnecessarily. " _I won't mess up like this in battle - it's different."_

" _You're right,"_ he responded tersely. " _In battle, everyone is trying to kill you. You'd be doing them a favor by chopping off your own limbs by accident."_

Rey huffed in frustration. Disregarding all form stances, she straightened and fixed him with a heated glare. " _That's not what would happen and you know it."_

"I feel as if I'm interrupting something," Tahl spoke up from where he leaned against one of the many crumbled, black pillars framing the courtyard.

" _You are!"_ Rey mentally snapped in response.

Ben had to agree with the sentiment, even as he welcomed the intrusion because he had appearances to maintain.

"You know," Tahl continued, ignoring the tension permeating the air though he had to have felt it, "it's been awhile since I've had a proper duel." he said, fidgeting with the curved handle of his lightsaber even as he glanced at Ben, the challenge clear.

 _Ah kriff it._

As soon as the challenge had been stated, there was no way to reject the proposal without appearing weak.

And Kylo Ren was not weak.

Tahl, fully knowing that his challenge could not be refused, had immediately begun moving out into the middle of the courtyard after positing the idea. "Plus, your apprentice gets the opportunity to see an actual lightsaber duel - it'll help bring those abstract practice drills into the realm of more practical knowledge."

Rey was visibly shaking with anger. " _You can't do this, Ben. You aren't even healed yet!"_

Ben ignored her gnawing fear as best he could without completely blocking her out. " _It's fine. This isn't actually a fight to the death - I just have to win. And I will."_

If there was one thing in his life that he constantly had confidence in, it was his ability to win a duel. _Notwithstanding that first battle with Rey,_ he reluctantly reminded himself.

Rey reluctantly stepped off to the side. Ben noticed how she tightened the grip on her lightsaber handle: The message was clear.

But it was not a message he could afford to send.

" _You will_ not _interfere, Rey."_ As much as his tone signified the words to be a command, his emotions told an entirely different story - one that Rey would be more willing to adhere to.

She had to understand _why_ he was doing this: How his reasons went so far beyond pride. If he faltered now, he would appear weak. If he was weak, then he was vulnerable. If he was vulnerable, then he might as well be dead.

 _At least if something were to happen to me, Krillien is still around and he'd protect Rey._

Tahl likely would as well, considering he was technically Krillien's apprentice. Still, Krillien was the one Ben trusted, not Tahl.

"I only have one rule for this duel - besides the obvious one of neither of us killing the other," Ben commented, unclipping his lightsaber. "Before we begin, you need to explain the benefits of Makashi so that my apprentice," he ignored Rey's flare of disdain for the phrase, "can understand what it is she's about to witness."

Tahl nodded, already warily eyeing the lightsaber in Ben's right hand.

An attack could come when you least expected it.

" _And how, exactly, are you going to keep from killing one another?"_

" _Low-power mode,"_ Ben replied.

" _There's a low-power mode and you_ still _won't let me practice with a lightsaber?"_ Rey scoffed in annoyance.

" _I don't trust it."_ The words weren't entirely a lie - he didn't trust his own blade's low-power mode as it was hardly ever switched on. But that was apparently a chance Tahl was willing to take.

He especially didn't trust the setting on a lightsaber that Rey had acquired from a source he did not know.

"Also," Ben directed to Tahl, idly adjusting his grip on the saber's handle, "when you lose, I expect a detailed description as to why your form failed."

Wisely, Tahl did not raise to the bait. After all, he had never beaten Ben before and was unlikely to start doing so now.

It was times like these, with his head pounding and unnatural splotches of color dancing wildly before his eyes, that Ben was grateful for his high threshold for pain. It had taken years of intense suffering to reach this point, but it was worth it to know that very few injuries - unless they were extremely severe - would be able to distract him during a fight.

"Makashi," Tahl began, easily falling into the side stance common to the form, lightsaber held in a downward angle in his dominant left hand, "is arguably the most effective of the seven forms to use when fighting other Force users. It relies mostly on careful footwork and clean, precise strikes."

" _You_ can _win this, right?"_ Rey's concern once again bubbled to the surface of his mind.

His only reply was to ignite his lightsaber.

The glare from the red sun high above in the sky illuminated the courtyard, casting eerie shadows from the ruined temple's towers.

"It's all in the wrist, really," Tahl proclaimed, flicking his red blade upwards in salute before once again dropping into stance.

Ben didn't give him the chance to prepare any further. With speed lent by the Force, he dashed forward, his strong overhead strike cut through Tahl's defense on impact.

Only years of training and heightened reflexes kept Tahl in the fight. Sliding backwards on his feet, Tahl brought up his lightsaber in a fluid arc and parried quickly.

Under normal circumstances, Ben might have been tempted to draw out the conflict simply as an excuse to refine his own skills. But with his fatigue already threatening to cripple him, he knew it was unwise to toy with the determined young man.

So, for each calculated, precise thrust Tahl made, Ben pushed back with a powerful counterstrike of his own, relying on his instincts rather than wasting precious time thinking through his attacks. Lightsaber combat was not the place to think about anything other than survival.

His crimson blade hummed excitedly each time it made contact with the dull, pinkish hue of Tahl's saber.

Each time their blades clashed, Tahl was forced to fall back into a defensive stance, keeping his lightsaber a blur of color as he desperately blocked the much heavier strikes from his opponent.

Ordinarily, Tahl would have been trying to press his own offense, feinting blows and redirecting the slower attacks of his adversary. But the blows from Ben's lightsaber were too strong for him to easily redirect.

Ben took full advantage of his superior strength, pressing the attack by repeatedly hammering down on Tahl's defenses, getting in far closer than was normally recommended.

Due to the flexible grip on the saber's handle, Makashi was famous for its resistance to disarmament.

However, Makashi's grip had never been intended - as the designers would likely never have encountered it - to defend from a lightsaber with crossguards.

It was a tricky maneuver - nigh impossible when facing an opponent with a double-bladed saber. Normal disarmament relied on a flurry of attacks followed by a quick flick of the wrist when the opponent's defenses were temporarily down.

Ben's way was much more dangerous. Most sane people would never have tried it.

Instinctively sensing the feint of Tahl's leftward parry, Ben moved his own saber upwards where he knew Tahl's blade would actually land.

For the briefest of seconds, the top quarter portion of Tahl's less vibrant saber lay directly between the main beam of energy and the right crossguard of Ben's lightsaber.

Ignoring the hum of Tahl's saber far too close to his left shoulder for comfort, Ben placed all his remaining strength into twisting his own blade harshly to the right. Tahl's grip on his lightsaber was too loose from the barrage of attacks for him to properly retain his hold.

The shorter saber went flying through the air, careening sharply to the left as it landed on the ground, cutting swaths out of the stone flooring as it skidded on its path.

Recognizing his defeat, Tahl quickly stepped backwards out of the possible reach of Ben's lightsaber. "I surrender," he panted, eyeing Ben's still-ignited blade with unease.

"As well you should," Ben responded, barely keeping himself upright as he fell back a few paces and powered down his saber.

" _I told you I would win,"_ he commented to Rey, hoping she wouldn't be able to hear the overwhelming exhaustion in his thoughts.

Oddly, she didn't respond. Her emotions buzzed by too quickly for him to focus on without drawing attention to their Force bond.

As Tahl summoned his now unignited lightsaber back to his hand, he recalled the other half of their deal. "I lost," he said, turning to face an impassive Rey, "because Djem So - the variation of Form V that your master commonly uses - is able to to overpower Makashi in a way that no other form is capable of doing."

"I understand," Rey replied, much too heavily for Ben's liking. _Understand what, exactly?_

Tahl nodded in response, content that he had fulfilled his side of the bargain, and reentered the temple without another word.

Ben desperately hoped he didn't look nearly as exhausted as he felt.

True, he had won just as he knew he would, but the duel had been far closer than it ought to have been. Though Tahl was highly-skilled in Form II and, consequently, had the advantage of speed, Djem So - as a variant of Form V which was much more reliable in direct lightsaber combat than its Shien counterpart - was often successful in breaking through any defense, no matter how well put together.

Rey was unusually quiet.

Her thoughts hovered at the edge of his mind like a cloud laden with too many thoughts to properly express.

Perhaps she was still concerned. "I told you I would win," he prompted again, hoping his facade of confidence would detract from the sudden heaviness of her emotions.

"You did," she agreed, still not glancing his way.

Ben began to turn away with the intent of heading back into the ruined temple."So-" He froze - the eerie, calm tone of Rey's voice contrasting harshly with her feelings of thinly-veiled panic and concern.

 _What happened? Did I miss something?_

He could sense that Rey had come to a startling realization, though what this realization might have been, he had no idea.

Had she somehow found out that he had sent Serie to spy on the Resistance?

Did she know he was contemplating eliminating them all?

Would she leave before he had a chance to explain?

But he couldn't offer an explanation as to why he was considering killing her friends, not one that would prove satisfactory to her, anyway.

If she left now, would he ever see her again?

What if -

"You let me win."

With those four words, it was as if his brain forgot how to function properly. "...What-"

She interrupted before he could question what she meant, before he could deny anything. "Back on Starkiller Base - you let me win."

Excuses lay thick on his tongue: He had been injured; he hadn't expected her to fight back; he had been distracted by a million other things.

"Why?" The question was a simple one, but the resolved expression on Rey's face told Ben that she already knew precisely _why_. She just wanted him to admit it.

But that was not something he could do. So he remained silent, hoping that she would drop the issue.

He ought to have known her better than that.

She approached him carefully, as though he were a wounded animal who might bolt at the slightest provocation. Maybe he would.

Her eyes were filled with an emotion he was incapable of comprehending as she gazed at his scar. A reminder of his failure.

"You wanted me to kill you that night."

Even without their Force connection allowing her to read his twisting emotions, she likely would have been able to tell by his carefully emotionless expression that her assessment was all-too accurate.

But there was no way he could defend himself. He didn't _want_ her to understand this side of him - not when she still had such brilliant light shining through her. Not when she still had so much to live for.

His eyes dropped down to the lightsaber still gripped tightly in her right hand, unable to bare the emotions so prevalent on Rey's face.

He had never taken a close look at the lightsaber Rey had until now.

Thin, black engravings marked the handle's best hand grip. The rest of the handle was so stunningly polished, it appeared almost white in color, though he knew it was an incredible light gray. From the way Rey was holding in with the top facing upwards, he couldn't make out the small emblem depicting the owner's house crest on the other side, but he knew it was there.

"Where did you get that lightsaber?" Even to him, his words sounded distant, dazed.

Rey frowned at the sudden change in topic so he repeated his question, this time with a bit more panic slipping through.

"Anya gave it to me," she responded, looking at him questioningly.

"Anya?" _Why did she have it?_

Rey's frown deeped and she stepped closer out of concern. "...Didn't I just say that? Is something wrong, Ben?"

"That's not possible," he whispered. His lungs felt much too tight. "He would never part with his lightsaber."

"He?"

"It's a shame, really, that your mind has become so corrupted that you no longer remember that day. I enjoyed it immensely." Ben flinched as Snoke's voice slithered across his consciousness.

 _Not again._

"Sorry, Ben." Luke's voice was distant, barely distinguishable from the roaring of his own blood pumping furiously through his veins. "I held him off as long as I could. It's up to you now."

"Ben?" Rey's free hand gripped his arm - she was trying to anchor him. No doubt she had felt the change in Force atmosphere as the assault on his still tattered mind renewed.

The memory to which his former master had been referring rushed back into his mind, released from imprisonment with the sole purpose of causing him pain.

As the memory pulled his consciousness back to the past, he sincerely wished - for the first time - that he and Rey were not bonded. _She shouldn't have to see this._

 _Krillien._

"I'm sorry."  
***

 _A/N: It must be Christmas - either that or we're getting to the climatic portions of the story - because the next chapter is shaping up to be pretty long, as well. Oh yeah, and you get another lightsaber fight.  
Please keep the comments coming - you readers are seriously amazing and I'm glad you're enjoying reading this story as much (hopefully) as I'm enjoying writing it._


	14. Chapter 14: Champion of Balance

_A/N: Crossing fandom signals here, but I would recommend listening to "Shine" from the RWBY volume 2 soundtrack during this chapter.  
Also, the details for this chapter kept changing...While there is a lightsaber fight *technically,* it's not really described._

***  
A swirling vortex of colors burst to life in front of Rey's eyes. The blinding white tones contrasted dramatically with the void of pitch black looming at the edges of her consciousness.

 _Or is it Ben's consciousness?_ It that moment, she could hardly tell the difference.

Sharp pains stabbed into her mind and she suddenly recalled the first time the Force had reconnected them after Crait: How she had felt every ounce of agony that Snoke had been inflicting on Ben. How the debilitating pain had seemed as if it would never end.

Instances like this reminded Rey how inherently dangerous their Force connection actually was.

Their bond went so far beyond simply _knowing_ each other's thoughts and emotions. If they weren't careful, or constantly guarded, they were capable of _feeling_ every second of insecure vulnerability, every white-hot beam of suffering, every pulse of rage, every spark of hope, every twinge of concern, every fleeting doubt, every firmly-held belief as their own, even when the emotions had not originated within them. Or, if they hadn't, it was impossible to say.

Rey did not struggle as she was pulled deeper and deeper into the connection. With every fiber of her being she longed to fight, to break free of whatever dark hand was dragging her down into the depths.

But she couldn't. Not unless she wanted to cause Ben's mind more harm.

That's where she was, wasn't it?

Though the emotions flooding through her consciousness felt like her own, the memories rushing past dripping with blood were certainly not hers.

 _She_ had never slaughtered entire villages.

 _She_ had never spent days on end devising new ways to maime and torture for information.

 _She_ had never murdered her father.

But she might as well have done all those things.

She was numb to the frightened screams of defenseless villagers as they were brutally cut down without a second's hesitation or regret. Men, women, and children - aged and newborn - all slain without discrimination, their bodies left to rot across blooming fields, arid deserts, and rocky hills.

She was filled to the brim with loathing for the once-proud dignitaries and foolishly stubborn rebel traitors who begged and pleaded for mercy as their bodies were meticulously ripped apart until they had no choice but to confess their misgivings and spill their secrets. Their suffering was justly deserved and she derived pleasure from their pain.

She was carefully impassive on the surface, even as her insides writhed and twisted, even as her unfaithful heart implored her to tread a different path. But she had failed once before when tested in this manner and to fail again would mean certain, indescribable agony. In the end, it hadn't mattered how deeply she had tried to push down her emotions, just as it had made no difference how she had refused to give in to the siren's call of brighter, happier memories - the conclusion was the same: She was broken far beyond repair and the only way out of her imprisonment, out of her misery, was for her to be put down once and for all.

But her father was too weak, too sentimental to do what had needed to be done.

So she had split her soul and killed him.

There were plenty of her father's enraged allies who would now be all too willing to bring her miserable life to a welcomed end.

Logically, some small part of Rey recognized that none of these emotions and memories belonged to her. But logic was unable to lessen the devastating impact.

If not for some outside source of blisteringly cold and fragile light that continuously tried to divert her attention from the memories brazenly assaulting her senses, Rey would have quickly become lost in the cavernous maze of disjointed images and corresponding emotions that were both hers and not.

Her mind was desperately trying to peel away - the shock of Ben's raging emotions quickly overloading her mind's capability to function.

He seemed just as determined to push her away, to shield her as best he could. As such, she was only moderately surprised - and extraordinarily relieved - when a buzzing energy field of thin, red vapor wrapped itself protectively around her consciousness, blocking her mind from computing the memories and emotions as her own, though she could still see and feel them.

She was traveling at lightspeed through his memories now, unable to catch anything more than quick snapshots of distorted images as her consciousness rushed past. She had never been this deep before - he had never allowed it. And now she understood why.

The atrocious acts he had committed as Kylo Ren were numerous and varied. But his complete apathy to the destruction and sorrow he was responsible for causing caught Rey off guard more than the images themselves.

Based on how he had been acting around her the past week and a half, how uncharacteristically human he seemed to be when he was with her, she had expected him to feel regret for his past actions.

But there was no real sadness, no guilt, no regret. Not for the hundreds of innocent lives taken by his own hand, not for the dozens of rebel spies he had mercilessly tortured, not even for his own father.

Knowing it was in vain, Rey hoped that perhaps those feelings had just been suppressed by Snoke. But there was no evidence to support her wishes.

With each passing second that she spent hurtling towards some unknown memory, Rey acknowledged that it was becoming harder and harder to balance these seemingly conflicting personas of her newfound ally and friend.

Perhaps he really was a monster.

But if that was true, why did he continuously refrain from killing her? If he truly was so uncaring, then why was he protecting her? She noted then, not for the last time, how it often seemed as if she was dealing with two wildly different people.

Steadily, the colors dancing before her eyes began to solidify into clearer images; once-distant sounds grew in intensity.

Rey saw the hard, tiled floor rushing up to greet her seconds before she crashed into it, unable to brace her body for impact. Thankfully, this was a memory and so she experienced no real pain upon landing.

Dazed, she propped herself up slowly on her elbows. Reflexively, her eyes darted around the heavily-shaded room, expecting to see enemies lunging toward her.

 _This is Snoke's throne room,_ she realized with dread.

The large, circular chamber appeared exactly as it had the last time she had been there. Alibet, before it had gone up in flames. Resurrected Praetorian guards stood still as statues around the perimeter of the room; the tips of their energy spears gleamed sinisterly in the flickering torchlight.

Though she knew she was in one of Ben's memories, her right hand still grasped at the empty space on her belt where her lightsaber would normally be hanging. Her only comfort was that she was relatively certain that no one could harm her in a memory, especially one that did not belong to her.

Standing warily, her eyes flickered uneasily between the very-much-alive Supreme Leader Snoke resting easily in his golden throne and the two men standing a respectful amount of space away from the foot of the dias.

She immediately recognized one of the men as a much younger Ben Solo. Though he was facing away from her, she could tell simply by the way he stood so confidently before his master that he was yet unburdened with the conflict she had come to recognize in his older self. This was a man wholeheartedly convinced of his own beliefs, who would not be swayed from his chosen path.

The thought was unnerving, considering the many terrible things he would, at this point in time, go on to do.

 _This,_ Rey decided with a sense of clarity, _is the real Kylo Ren._

Rey turned to look at the second man: He was thin, but seemingly well muscled underneath the same style of black, First Order garb that Ben still wore; standing next to one another, she noticed that this man was only an inch or two shorter than Kylo, and certainly couldn't have been much older.

A nagging sensation in the back of her mind had her questioning who this man was: She felt as if she ought to know.

"Is it treason," Snoke questioned, tone just as condescending and eerily parental as the last time Rey had heard it, "to be loyal to two people at once?"

Neither Kylo nor the other young man answered.

Annoyed that she couldn't quite tell what was going on from her position in the back of the room, Rey slowly and carefully began picking her way along the inside wall, keeping the Praetorian Guards within eyesight even though she knew they couldn't see her. For, if they could have seen her, she would certainly be dead by now.

"As of late," Snoke continued, unconcerned with his unanswered question, "many faint whispers of treason have reached my ears. Planets filled with strife and the outraged cries of the ungrateful are as common as the stars. Troublesome Rebel Alliances and burnout legends can be properly dealt with. But what I cannot abide," Rey's heart began to race in a sudden bout of unnatural fear as Snoke's eyes darkened and a scowl stretched the warped skin around his mouth, "is disloyalty among my soldiers."

"Disloyalty?" The unknown man repeated, his tone carefully even and betraying no discernable emotion.

"Surely all of your soldiers are loyal only to you, Supreme Leader." Kylo Ren assured his master. "Any other loyalty would be foolish."

Snoke sighed heavily, leaning forward a bit on his throne. "I would very much like to believe that."

The two men glanced uneasily at one another, clearly confused.

"Rey."

The sudden acknowledgement of her presence caused Rey to spin around, startled. She breathed a sigh of relief upon realizing it was only Ben. Though who else it could have been, she was unclear on.

She had expected to turn and find him looking at her with concern, as he was wont to do whenever he suspected she was in danger. Instead, he was staring, dazed and unblinking, at the man standing next to his younger self.

Rey opened her mouth to question what was happening, to ask which memory this was and why it was so important. But as she glanced back over at the stranger to try and find some distinguishing mark that would clue her in to his identity, the man shifted slightly to the left, exposing the deceptively pure white handle of a lightsaber strapped to his belt.

 _So Anya gave me_ his _lightsaber to use? Who is this guy?_ A thousand questions clouded her mind.

"Ben, what's going-"

Her words were quickly drowned out by the echoing tenor of Snoke's voice. "Your only allegiance should be to me. And yet," his tone lowered, displeasure coating his words, "I see before me a clear example of divided loyalty."

At his words, hostile tension immediately permeated the air.

As she stepped forward to get a closer look at the events unfolding before her eyes, a large, calloused hand wrapped around her wrist, silently pleading her to stop.

Fear, tangible and all-consuming, filled Ben's eyes.

Rey realized then that she had never actually seen him afraid before. _Felt_ his fear, yes, but even in the very few instances where she had felt fear coming from his side of their connection, it had always been in relation to some danger that he perceived she was in. Never before had she felt him be afraid for _himself_.

"Ben," she whispered, a part of her breaking upon seeing his terror.

Heart-gripping fear, she decided then and there, was not allowed anywhere near her friend.

She could deal with his weird mood swings; she could learn to be more appreciative of his fierce desire to protect her; she could even forgive him for the horrible things he had done - for _all_ the people he had killed - because he was absolutely no longer that man.

But she could not bare to see him in such agony and do nothing to try and help alleviate his suffering as he so often did for her.

For her, everything clicked suddenly into place. In the middle of the most unnatural of situations - stuck inside her former enemy's nightmarish memory - she stumbled upon the most blatant of revelations from which she had unconsciously been hiding.

 _He would burn the galaxy if it meant protecting me._

 _And I love him for that._

He clearly hadn't overheard her mental revelation, fixated as he was on the muddled conversation taking place behind her.

Something was about to happen, Rey knew, something terrible.

And it couldn't be stopped.

Maybe her morals prevented her from carving permanent, gaping wounds throughout the universe, but she was more than willing to help mollify the consequences of whatever was about to take place in this memory.

Gently, she pried his hand from her wrist. But she refused to let go entirely. In entirely different circumstances, perhaps she would have given thought to how extraordinarily natural it felt to intertwine their fingers, or how surprised she was by the way his hand instinctively curled protectively over hers, though he gave no indication that he understood what was happening.

Snoke was still speaking in the background, but Rey was actively trying to block out his patronizing tone - she already felt like an intruder by simply being present in this memory. Besides, she had no desire to hear more of Snoke's poisonous words.

Nor did she have any desire to watch the memory unfurl. Likely due to the Force bond, she understood how the memory was going to end and desperately did not want to see the final confrontation.

The distinct hum of lightsabers being ignited filled her ears.

 _He doesn't need to see this again._

As she had never experienced anything like this before, Rey had no idea how the intricacies of watching a memory play out in someone else's mind actually worked - there wasn't exactly a set of detailed instructions to follow. Logically, she figured that she and Ben would only be trapped in his memory until the entirety of the recollection played itself out.

At least, she hoped that they would make it back out to the present reality and not be stuck in a loop for the rest of eternity.

She had no real plan, only the inkling of an idea.

 _How does this even happen in a memory - why are we both physically here?_ Rey tried to clear her mind of the questions: this wasn't the right time to be speculating on the details of their Force bond.

 _I hope this works. If it doesn't, then I'll just have to be more creative._

Considering their height difference, Rey knew it was impossible to block Ben's view of the battle about to take place.

Reaching out with her consciousness proved just as challenging as she had feared it would be. Instead of simply brushing up against his mental walls as she normally did, she was literally submerged in his consciousness, unable to distinguish any telltale signs of where her thoughts would be directed.

So she opened her mind and broadcasted her thoughts everywhere, hoping that these tattered remnants of Ben's mind wouldn't interfere with their bond.

" _Ben."_ Urgency pressed upon her so she didn't wait to see if he reacted, " _I need your help with something."_ She allowed threads of anxiety and fear to spin out of her mind - if this had any chance of working, then he needed to believe that she was in some sort of danger.

" _Ben,"_ she tried again, pushing harder through the thick fog that encroached upon her consciousness. " _I'm scared,"_ she admitted, though she was mostly afraid _for him._

Rey stubbornly ignored the sounds of lightsaber combat coming from behind her.

" _Please just look at me."_

Confusion nudged at the edge of her consciousness.

It was odd, Rey noted, how she was both fully immersed in Ben's mind, yet able to still retain her own sense of individuality. Likely, it was due to whatever he had used to shield her mind.

" _Rey?"_ he questioned, dark eyes flicking down to stare at her in disbelief. " _You're still here?"_

She breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Now, hopefully, all she had to do was keep him distracted until the memory concluded. " _I never left."_

" _Are-"_ he paused, clearly torn between his concern for her and the battle being fought across the room. " _Are you alright?"_

" _Mostly,"_ Rey answered honestly as she slowly shifted her position in an attempt to turn Ben away from the source of conflict. " _But I wanted to ask you something."_ His fear was still palpable but, as she predicted, his confusion by her presence and his concern for her safety overrode much of the deafening terror rolling off of him in ever-thickening waves of energy.

" _...Right now?"_ She smiled at the slight annoyance in his tone.

" _Yes. I-"_ Rey froze, momentarily distracted by the stunning clash of yellow and red as the lightsabers cut through the air faster than her eye could track.

That chilling light flared again in the peripheral areas of her mind, shattering the feeling of dread that had been steadily creeping up her spine from the moment she first found herself trapped in this memory.

" _How are you doing that?"_ she gasped, suddenly feeling much more clear-headed.

" _Doing what?"_

" _Using the Force to protect me like that like."_ As the buzzing of his uncertainty grew louder, Rey expounded, " _You know, how you somehow keep managing to shield my mind from your emotions, your thoughts, even from Snoke. But it's strange,"_ she continued, grateful that he was focused more on her now rather than the memory, " _sometimes your consciousness burns so intensely that I think it will consume me. Other times, it's calming and bright."_

Rey paused, considering her words, " _It's almost as if…"_

She was unsure how to finish her sentence in way that wouldn't cause him to recoil in distaste.

She knew exactly what she wanted to say, but even thinking it made little sense when contemplating everything she had learned of the Force. Yes, there was light and dark inside everyone since the Force itself was neutral and only those who drew on its power fell on one side of the spectrum or another.

But from everything she had learned from Luke, from Anya, and from Ben, it seemed almost impossible to be in connection with both the light and the dark - it was one or the other, never both.

That ultimatum, however, failed to explain how Ben, who was so deeply entrenched in the dark side, constantly used both light and dark side attributes of the Force. Of course, her theories did not have consistent examples - Anya had explained how Jedi and the Sith were often unwilling to draw on the opposing side of the Force, not because they were unable, but because of the severe drain of strength the action required.

The only consistent factor Rey was able to pinpoint was herself.

But she was absolutely certain that she was not the direct cause of anything.

Though she had been tempted on numerous occasions to draw on the dark side, she had never really used any of that power. Losing herself to the darkness was not an option. And she worried that if she allowed herself to experiment with a broader range of Force abilities, she would be unable to pull herself back to the light.

"' _As if' what?"_ he queried.

" _I-"_ The words wouldn't come. How could she explain her insane-sounding theory? She could feel the conflict constantly swirling within him, but there were moments - fleeting as they were - when the light and dark seemed to mix harmoniously, neither side greater than the other.

And it was in those brief instances when he appeared most confident, most assured of his convictions - whatever those actually were since they had a habit of changing as swiftly as his moods, though Rey knew for a fact that Ben wasn't nearly as unstable as most people, himself included, often believed.

" _Maybe right now isn't the best time to discuss-"_ a grimace of pain shot across his face, though Rey could physically see no reason for it. Nothing in the memory had changed - the battle was still going on before her eyes.

It was Snoke, then. His presence hung heavily over Ben's consciousness and repeatedly attempted to break through the barriers around her own mind.

Any agony she had perceived before through their bond paled in comparison to the raging current of pain she sensed rushing through him. Even from the trickle of pain that forced its way into her consciousness, Rey could not comprehend how Ben had not immediately passed out.

 _Maybe you can't pass out in your own mind._ Still, there had been many instances - Starkiller Base, the first time the Force had connected them after Crait, when she had rescued him from the First Order - where he should have succumbed to the pain overloading his nerves, but had somehow managed to remain standing and even fight, seeming to regard the pain as a mere inconvenience instead of debilitating.

This time, however, perhaps because he had already been so drained from their training session and his duel with Tahl, the pain won out.

If Rey hadn't already been standing so close, she would have been unable to halt his fall. As it was, she barely reacted in time to grab hold of his arm with her free hand to slow his descent. Though the suddenness of the fall caught Rey by surprise and caused her to sink to her knees as Ben did, he still retained enough willpower to not simply become deadweight in her clutches. For that, she was especially grateful. Considering the majority of Ben's frame was toned muscle, Rey knew she wouldn't have been able to catch him at all if he wasn't somehow still slightly alert.

" _If you can leave,"_ his consciousness whispered faintly, almost lost among the sounds of battle, " _you should."_

" _I'm not going anywhere,"_ she stubbornly replied.

He sighed heavily, apparently accepting her decision since he didn't argue further.

Rey tried to reel in her shock as he lowered his head to rest lightly on her right shoulder. He was still conscious, but just barely.

Her mind went blank and she couldn't think of anything remotely reassuring to say. She couldn't tell him to "just hang on" because she had no idea if they were ever going to make it out again. There were no words of encouragement she could offer. She had no idea how to help ease any of his pain - there was no doubt in her mind that if she tried to widen their connection and take more of his suffering on herself, he would find some well of energy and block her attempts.

They were similar in that regard: Neither of them understood how to accept help without looking for underlying, corrupt motivations.

So she did the only things she could: She held onto him and tried to transfer as much of her own peace and steadfastness as possible. Maybe she couldn't fight this battle for him, but she could make sure he didn't go through it alone.

The sounds of battle suddenly grew distant. Glancing up, Rey noticed with only a hint of surprise that, other than in her immediate area, her vision was fuzzy and so distorted that it was extremely difficult to make out any specific images.

" _Ben,"_ she said, trying hard to control her frustration, " _you're doing in again."_

" _...What?"_ If he wasn't about to pass out, Rey would have hit him.

" _Protecting me even though you need to be conserving your energy."_

He mentally mumbled something unintelligible in response. But considering the memory remained hazy, Rey was relatively certain that her concerns were not going to change his mind and that he had said something along those lines.

Or possibly he had strung together a bunch of curses - it was difficult to tell. Either way, the meaning was the same.

She sighed deeply, preparing herself mentally for his likely hostile reaction to what she was about to say. _It'd be nice if we could have an actual conversation when one of us_ isn't _potentially dying._

" _I already know what happens in this memory,_ " she admitted. Rey felt him shift slightly in her grasp - the only indication he had heard her. " _I know who you were fighting."_ She wasn't sure when the pieces had locked together - there was only one person it could be.

She swallowed out of habit even though her words were not vocal. " _Krillien. That's why Anya had his lightsaber. Snoke didn't give you a choice: he made the two of you fight and you won. You killed your best friend because you didn't have a way out."_

Self-preservation was one of his strongest qualities and it had undoubtedly kicked in when he and Krillien were forced to fight.

" _No,"_ he replied, " _it was much worse than that."_

 _Worse?_ She silently wondered to herself, _How could it possibly be worse?_

It crashed upon her like a wave: All of the sadness, all of the guilt, all of the regret that Ben had felt when he killed Krillien. She had wondered where those emotions were in relation to the many people he had murdered over the years. Now, she realized that all of his sorrow was confined to this one moment - nothing could eclipse what had taken place in this room almost six years ago.

How fitting it was, then, that Snoke had been physically defeated in this same room.

Justice had been served. A vengeful sort of justice, to be sure, but justice nonetheless.

" _I didn't kill Krillien."_

" _What?"_ She knew that couldn't possibly be true - she had felt the impending death the moment Ben had arrived.

" _I didn't kill him,"_ he repeated, tone strangely even. " _Snoke had us fight, yes, but I didn't really believe that either of us were going to die - I thought we were both too valuable. But Krillien kept insisting that one of us wasn't going to make it out alive."_ He paused a moment, uncharacteristically relaxing a bit more into her hold. Rey could feel his mental walls slipping; whatever strength he had managed to find was fading quickly.

" _He believed it...so I slowed my attacks, began missing by centimeters on purpose. Then,"_ Rey had a difficult time keeping her running commentary to herself. " _Then he apologized. And took a step to the left, directly where he knew my lightsaber would be."_

 _Wait,_ Rey thought, _what? How is that worse than purposely killing your friend?_

" _He sacrificed himself for me, the idiot. I don't understand why anyone would do that - it doesn't make any sense."_

'Because love doesn't make sense,' she wanted to proclaim. " _Because he was your friend,"_ Rey said instead, " _and friends would do anything to keep the people they care about safe."_

" _It's stupid,"_ he muttered tiredly.

Rey decided that now was not the right time to point out that the exact thing he was condemning Krillien for was precisely the reaction Ben himself had whenever he thought she was in danger. Maybe not to the extreme case of death, but he had proven on numerous occasions that he would certainly put himself in dangerous situations to protect her.

Thinking it through in the context of sacrifice made Rey uneasy. It was one thing to admit to herself that she loved Ben, but it was an entirely different matter to consider if he felt anything for her.

Her consciousness suddenly cringed in anticipation as the memory faded out of sight.

She expected to begin falling again, to have to float along in Ben's consciousness until reality returned.

But nothing drastic happened.

One moment they had been in Snoke's throne room, and the next moment the solid, scorching hot stone of the courtyard on Korriban was underneath them.

They were both alive. They had made it back.

 _Granted,_ Rey thought, feeling the heaviness of Ben's head on her shoulder, _he's unconscious. Again. I really hope those knights have a plan for fixing him._

Rey was relieved by the thought of their survival for only a few seconds.

A Force presence unlike any she had ever felt materialized in front of her. Still, it took her only one glance to recognize the individual - she had just spent the last however long staring and wondering who he was.

"Thank you." Krillien's mild and soothing tone came as a shock to Rey.

"For - what?" she managed to get out.

He smiled slightly; his dark green eyes lightening at her confusion. "For everything, really. Mostly, for picking up where I left off," he said, glancing down at Ben's unconscious form. "I know it doesn't often seem like it, but he means well."

Before Rey had gotten to know the man under the mask, she would have immediately laughed at the thought of Ben having any good intentions in his attempts to control and enslave the galaxy. Now, she wasn't really sure she understood what his intentions had been.

If she had to guess, she would say he had just been searching for someplace where he hadn't felt so alone - where his talents were put to good use.

"Do me a favor?" Krillien asked with no obvious expectations of her agreement.

She nodded anyway. Ben had told her there were only two people he trusted - now, she was the only one left. So if there was any advice Krillien was going to give her, she would gladly listen.

"My lightsaber - keep it. Seems fitting that you should use it, at least until you have time to construct your own."

Rey had to agree: it did seem fitting. Besides, she felt comfortable using it.

"I just don't know what to do about Snoke," she admitted.

"Snoke?" Krillien laughed lightly, "I wouldn't fret too much about him."

Rey gaped at him in shock.

Krillien's form grew blurry, translucent. "Let's just say that Snoke was wrong about a lot of things: It's never a wise idea to underestimate Ben."


	15. Chapter 15: Guardian of Life

_A/N: Sorry for the delay!_

 _I would recommend listening to the songs "Coldest Heart" by The Classic Crime and "World So Cold" by 12 Stones for this chapter.  
***_

Impenetrable darkness clung to his skin. Shards of hate and rage, fear and inadequacy, guilt and shame pierced his mind from all sides, effectively draining him of any remaining shreds of power or thoughts of continued rebellion.

His only comfort was that Rey's consciousness came to him as a pinprick of dull light from a vast distance away.

She had made it out. She was safe.

Ben could not fathom how Rey had been able to disconnect from his consciousness, but he was grateful that she was - as much as possible with their bond - gone from his mind. It physically pained him every time she saw him so broken, so weak, in such utter need of some form of salvation.

But redemption - at least in the sense of turning back to the Light, admitting his 'mistakes,' and forging a new path as his family wanted - was out of the question: He had never desired to be saved, never thought he required it, and Rey's stubborn grip to the Light, though fascinating and powerful in her, had little persuasive power over him.

He was fully submerged in the darkness: From it, he desired no escape. The darkness had always been a key factor to understanding who he was - to give it up would be akin to tearing apart what little remained of his soul.

It seemed all too fitting, then, that he would perish in a deep void of his mind, surrounded by the darkness he both craved and despised.

Craved because it sustained him, gave him power and control over most everything in his life. Or, it had at least pretended to at one point.

Despised for the way it had tainted him and had driven divides between him and and everyone who should have stood beside him, no matter the cost.

For what good were power and control if the entire galaxy was too blinded by their foolish morality to see that order and life were birthed from the necessary destruction of all that had come before?

 _There is no peace without a passion to create._

Ben flinched in surprise as a familiar pensive and charismatic tone drifted into his consciousness from beyond the grave. He had not anticipated this; he had expected Snoke to appear and continue his relentless deluge of humiliation.

The previously undiluted blackness that formed the walls of his mental cell was suddenly contaminated with steady splotches of pure silver starlight.

Even before the figure bathed in the soft, grey glow had fully solidified, Ben had averted his eyes. At this point, he almost preferred Snoke's presence.

"You better not be sitting in here moping." Krillien commented - the level of concern in his tone easily rivaling Rey's during the moments she was most worried. "I didn't die so you could waste your life feeling sorry for yourself."

Ben didn't respond.

 _The number of people returning from the dead intent on bothering me is becoming ridiculous._

Krillien stepped forward through the black haze of smoke shrouding Ben. "Please tell me," he implored, lowering himself until he was crouched down directly in front of Ben, "that you aren't still blaming yourself for my death."

Ben swallowed thickly, refusing to glance up from the overly-fascinating patch of blackness beneath his folded knees that was exactly the same as every other black speck in his consciousness.

"It was my choice," Krillien professed. "I know you don't understand it," Ben tried his best not to squirm under his friend's scrutinizing gaze, "but I need you to realize that my death was not your fault - it was my inevitable fate to die protecting you."

"'Inevitable fa-'" Ben sputtered, his eyes snapping up to glare at Krillien's impassively concerned face. "You weren't supposed to die!"

"And you were?"

"I'm not dead!" Ben protested.

"But you wish you were." Krillien stated, his voice holding no sliver of doubt for Ben to grab hold of and defend his actions. "And that's worse than being dead. Trust me, I know."

"What are you even doing here?" Ben deflected feebly. Too many people of late had suddenly become interested in his self-destructive tendencies. "How are you a Force Ghost? Why show up now?"

"Would you have listened to anything I had to say before now?" Krillien questioned, clearly just going along with the change of topic in an attempt to placate.

 _This banter is not helping. Leave me alone, Krillien. Can't you see that everything is so close to being over? Just let it end - let_ me _end._

"I'm not listening to you _now_!" he exclaimed. They had been down this road too many times before for either one of them to be surprised that the topic had come up one final time.

"I know." Krillien sighed heavily, his impassiveness fading to clear distraughtness. "That's the problem: You see yourself as nothing more than a conduit for power - a tool to be used and then discarded. The reality is that you are capable of so much more. You are the strongest, most stubborn person I ever had the honor of knowing."

"I'm weak," Ben whispered in response, "a failure. Destruction and death follow me and nothing good springs up from the blood-soaked earth I leave behind."

"That is the farthest thing from the truth," Krillien replied, leaning forward with the conviction of his words. "But I know you won't believe me, no matter how many times I say the words - you aren't programmed to receive encouragement and genuine concern."

"However," Krillien gently placed his hands on Ben's temples, "I can show you."  
***

 _ **There is no emotion, there is peace.**_

 _Swarms of irritated insects nipped at Krillien's skin as he pushed his way through the leafy undergrowth growing in throngs upon the surface of Yavin 4. Even with the thick shade afforded by the towering trees, blisteringly hot rays of sunlight shot through gaps in the trees, turning his skin an unhealthy shade of angry red._

 _If anyone else had stormed off after their daily lesson, Krillien would simply have continued to go about his routine and would have given little thought to his enraged classmate. Ben, however, was a special case._

 _Following Ben's path through the forest proved relatively easy as Krillien only had to look for the wholly abnormal burn wounds on multiple trees: only a lightsaber could cause that sort of damage._

 _Krillien halted briefly at the edge of a small clearing. Likely, Ben had sensed him coming, but it was never a wise idea to try and sneak up on him, even if the act was unintentional - that was a fast way to get cleaved in two._

 _It was a troubling sight that greeted his eyes, but one that had become all too common over the past couple of years. Ben was doubled-over in pain; his left hand curled tightly into a fist - blood dripped slowly from the deep wounds on his palm; his right hand clutched his head: shaking fingers wrapped around tufts of his black hair - he was desperately trying to anchor himself against the onslaught of forbidden emotions. His grandfather's lightsaber lay temporarily forgotten on the forest floor, having slipped from his grasp as the pain escalated._

" _Ben?" Cautiously, Krillien approached his distressed friend, noting how erratic his breathing had become. "You hearing voices again?" It was a rhetorical question: Ben was always hearing voices._

" _It's no good." Ben whispered, his voice choked with sobs that would never be uttered. "I can't do this." Krillien stood by helplessly as Ben sunk to his knees in agony. "I'll never be a great Jedi, no matter how hard I try to fall in line. It's suffocating. I can't-" Ben shook his head defeatedly, voice trailing off._

 _Blood pulsating with rage, there was nothing else in that moment that Krillien longed to do more than find whomever it was who continuously drilled egregious lies into his friend's mind and beat them senseless. But, through sheer willpower, he forced himself to remain calm instead and control his murderous urges: Not everything could be solved with violence._

 _The two of them had had this conversation before, yet it never failed to crack his heart a bit more each time. "Then there is something inherently broken in the system - not in you."_

 _Ben simply shook his head again, waving off the comment with all the unconscious precision of someone who never learned how to accept compliments._

 _Krillien sighed, knowing better than to repeat himself over and over._

" _Well, I'm not going to let you just sit around here." Krillien stretched out his hand, "Come on, let's go explore some of the ancient temple ruins or something."_

" _You go ahead without me," Ben replied, uncurling his fist as some of the agony ebbed from his tired expression._

" _Not a chance," Krillien said, confidently taking hold of Ben's bloody hand, "we're a package deal: Where one of us leads, the other follows."_

 _Perhaps he couldn't convince Ben to realize his own strength - for not many would still be standing if they were constantly fending off mental attacks - but he could continue to steer his friend in the right direction.  
***_

 _There is no passion without peace to guide._

Back in the confines of his mind, Ben pulled away from Krillien's spectral grasp. "What the kriff was that?"

"I told you," Krillien explained patiently, a bit of amusement slipping into his voice, "you won't listen to what I have to _say_ , so I'm _showing_ you why you're wrong to despise yourself."

"No," Ben muttered, "I don't want to be reminded of anything."

"But you _need_ to be," Krillien countered without skipping a beat, "because Snoke stole your memories and fabricated new ones."

There was nothing Ben could say in rebuttal: Snoke _had_ twisted his memories - had turned his entire mind into a battlefield littered with faulty mines ready to explode with a single wrong step.

"Let me help you," Krillien implored.

"I do trust you," Ben conceded, allowing Krillien's version of events to once again cover his senses.  
***

 _ **There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.**_

 _Orange flames as blinding as the sun crackled greedily in their haste to demolish the Jedi Temple on Yavin 4. Even from a distance, the other moons of Yavin's core planet shone their pale, white light across the forest moon's surface, drowning the entire scene of destruction in an ethereal shadow._

 _The thatched roof of the Temple had burst into flames almost instantaneously; the other wooden huts in the near vicinity had quickly caught the increasing blaze, propelled as the fire was by the raging wind. Students screamed in terror: Some were desperately trying to put out the flames with buckets of water, others simply stood to the side, weeping openly._

 _But Krillien paid no mind to the chaos happening around him. He ignored the yells of his classmates to come help and the creaking of burnt wood as it snapped asunder. All of his attention was focused on the lone figure bathed in the flickering firelight of the Temple's shade, a lit torch lay abandoned by his feet._

" _What have you done, Ben?" he whispered. There had to be a reason for this sudden bout of revenge - some catalyst that had finally driven his friend over the edge on which he had teetered his entire life._

 _An unnatural beam of condensed cobalt blue burst to life not twenty paces from where Krillien stood - almost an even distance between him and Ben. The lightsaber's wielder was unsteady. Arms shaking due to adrenaline-fueled confusion and fear combined with the young age of the boy - barely thirteen and still largely untrained - made Krillien's choice all too easy. Without a thought, he reached out with Force and flung the saber from the boy's grip._

 _That one simple action carved an unbridgeable gap through the ranks of trainees._

 _Within the span of a few heartbeats, sides had been chosen before anyone truly realized what picking a side even implied; before it was understood that this was a life or death situation._

 _An older trainee by the name of Zi'eth Omni, who had long had a sort of petty feud with Ben, made the fatal mistake of trying to approach the burning temple. It hardly mattered what the boy's intention had been: maybe he had been trying to help put out the fire, or perhaps he truly was going to take the opportunity afforded him by the chaos and try to get even with Ben for whatever issue they had been arguing about that week._

 _Whatever reason Zi'eth had was made void the moment he stepped much too close to where Ben stood, clearly dazed and battling those voices in his head once again._

 _Krillien had the perfect location to clearly see the exact moment in which his friend, worn down and defeated, gave in to his natural inclinations and the voices were finally victorious._

 _Poetically framed by the crackling, red flames, Ben's expression turned chillingly emotionless as the luminescent blue of his grandfather's lightsaber pierced Zi'eth's chest and was pulled quickly upwards, slicing the boy almost fully in two._

 _After that one act, nothing else mattered: Old alliances and friendships were discarded; morality was overlooked completely. Chaos reigned._

 _As with all battles, the fight seemed to stretch on for eternity. In reality, however, the slaughter barely lasted fifteen minutes._

 _And a slaughter it was._

 _As the Jedi Temple symbolically crumbled to ash in the background, the division showed itself: Those who remained loyal to the Jedi Order - along with those who simply had no clue what was happening - were cut down mercilessly; the few courageous enough to stand apart and question all that they had been told remained standing._

 _Not one of the three individuals who had - knowingly or not - sided with Ben died that night._

 _But the two-dozen who had been brave enough to put up a fight against a seemingly unstoppable dark power lay unmoving on the blood-soaked earth._

 _Staring down at his former classmates, Krillien couldn't find it in himself to care that they had just been wiped from the galaxy. Sometimes, violence was necessary to achieve peace.  
***_

 _Knowledge stagnates without the strength to act._

Ben didn't know how to react. The knowledge that he had never regretted being known as the Jedi Killer was nothing new. What was startling to find out was that Krillien apparently had few qualms concerning the slaughter of their classmates.

"I thought you hated the fact that we struck them down so easily."

Krillien cocked his head to the side, thoughtful. "Their deaths were saddening because they were young and full of potential. But their deaths were necessary: They stood in the way of advancement by their desire to cling to a dying religion. And, yes," he said, conviction coating his words, "if I had to do it all over again, I would."

 _Wait...what?_

Between the two of them, Krillien had always been the voice of reason - even if that reason was often shaky and landed them in a moral grey area. Condoning a massacre hardly seemed to fit the image Ben held of his childhood friend. Except…

"What advancement are you talking about? You never supported the First Order or Snoke."

"Ah," a small smile lifted the edges of Krillien's lips, "now you're listening." He shifted slightly, dropping into a sitting position on what constituted as the floor in Ben's consciousness. "You're so close - even now stuck in your own head: I can feel it."

"Close to what? Krillien, you aren't making sense." _Stop speaking in riddles and let me die already, you kriffing moron._

"Personal balance," Krillien responded as if it was the most obvious answer in the galaxy.

"Balance?" Ben repeated, a bit dumbstruck. "That's not-"

"Possible?" Krillien supplied with a grin. "Rather the opposite, really. It's just difficult to achieve."

"Since when did you become an expert in balance?" Ben questioned, skepticism clear in his wearied tone.

"Remember those visions I used to have of the future?" Ben hesitantly nodded: through the web of tangled memories the concept sounded faintly familiar. "Well, most of them made zero sense, but there was one in particular that kept nagging at me. It was about you, actually," Krillien added softly.

"You had a vision about _me_?" The thought was almost comical enough to cause Ben to laugh aloud, "You're making this up."

"No," Krillien insisted, "I'm not. The vision was never clear - it was more of an impressed feeling, really. It's hard to describe…"

Ben sighed in resignation; there was no stopping Krillien once he took an idea to heart. "Are you going to show it to me then?"

"I doubt I can show you the actual feelings involved - they probably wouldn't make any sense to you. But I can think of an example that might prove my point." Krillien commented as the world once again shifted.  
***

 _ **There is no passion, there is serenity.**_

 _Krillien stood knee-deep among the bloody carnage and charred remains of the Jedi Temple on Yavin 4. As reverently as possible, he picked his way through the maze of dismembered bodies and scorched corpses of his former classmates. The Temple still burned, forcing him to acknowledge the destruction of life lit as the scene was by the crackling fire._

 _Off in the distance, the pale, steady search beams of multiple cruisers could just be made out: Apparently whomever Ben was in contact with was coming for the few students who remained._

 _Anya and Tahl stood off to the side near the edge of the great forest, occasionally casting shocked and confused glances back to the scene of terror. For the most part, they were content to look away - to pretend that the sour stench of death was not permeating every molecule of the air._

 _A sharp_ crack _sounded below him. Warily looking down, Krillien's eye caught sight of the fractured remains of a deeply-cracked, cobalt kyber crystal - it's light was faded and dull, no longer worth anything. Just like the dozens of murdered children lying where they had fallen in the thick mud, their blood still spilling out onto the thirsty ground._

 _As always, Ben stood apart from the group. His formerly-white tunic was caked in dirt and ash; in the orange glare of the flames, the dark bloodstains dotting his clothes appeared almost black. As disconcerting as the sight was, Krillien knew he likely didn't look much better. After all, the majority of the students had fallen either by Ben's saber or by his own._

 _Instinct propelled by a sickly, all-consuming desire for personal survival had spurred them to action: Bloodlust, some would have called it._

 _The massacre now over, Krillien had anticipated his body to fall into a state of shock at the trauma he had just undergone. Adrenaline was still pumping through his veins, however, pushing him forward and out of the realm of feeling sorrow or shame for his part in the slaughter. Likely, the enormity of what had just transpired - of the dozens of young Jedi that he and Ben had just murdered without a second thought - would crash upon him like a boulder._

 _But now was not the time to fall apart - now was not the time to grieve for the complete loss of innocence of all involved._

 _Looking around at the decimated Jedi Temple and training grounds, it was impossible to feel any sense of calm or peace: It was as if the last hope in the galaxy had been suddenly and fully snuffed out._

" _So," he whispered, breaking the heavy silence afforded to the dead, "what happens now?"_

" _Now," Ben answered, staring at the approaching ships with an air of trepidation, "now I have no idea. I guess...we move on."_

 _Glancing at his lifelong friend, an intense feeling of dread washed over Krillien: Whatever was coming next, it wasn't going to be good. Whatever was coming next involved pain on a colossal scale; brief flashes of overwhelming agony and willing servitude clogged his vision: fear and hatred would rule the day, bringing the entire galaxy to its ultimate end of brimstone and death._

 _The realization dawned on him that this plan to control the galaxy and bring its subjects to heel was terrifyingly brilliant. For in one genius stroke, the Jedi had been demolished and every person who could have stood against the impending wave of annihilation was in no position to stage any sort of galaxy-saving resistance. Sure, the New Republic could try to win with politics and bands of rebels could rise again to fight off the invasion, but if even the children of senators, legends, and war-heroes could be turned, then there remained little hope for the salvation of others._

" _Sometimes you have to go through the darkness to find the light." Krillien whispered, the words of one of his mother's favorite sayings seemed apt to their current situation._

" _What was that?" Ben asked, the crackling of the flames and his own inner demons having drowned out the wisdom in Krillien's words._

" _Nothing. Just-" Krillien paused, his attention caught by a fuzzy, grey outline at the edges of his vision. The answer seemed suddenly so simple, but dare he risk the consequences that inevitably followed hope?_

 _In that moment, he understood precisely what was coming: All of the morbid acts that would be committed, all of the lives stolen much too early, all of the mind-numbing grief and suffering. And yet, in the midst of all the pain and submission, the fire served only to shape and forge a stronger, unyielding creation._

 _Though the images vanished as quickly as vapor, the emotions remained: His convictions were solid, his path clear. "You do what you need to do to find yourself, Ben: The rest will work itself out."_

 _Millions might perish in an instant, but hope would rise again from the ashes.  
***_

 _Power blinds without the serenity to see._

"I don't understand," Ben muttered, the darkness feeling as oppressive as the light he had once scorned. "If you saw everything that would come to pass, then why did you stay with me?"

"Because," Krillien said easily, a sly grin gracing his lips, "I believe that no choices are fixed - there is always an escape, there is always time to change."

 _Ah, great._ "Is that what this is? You think I need to be redeemed and so you came to show me the error of my ways." Bitterness coated his words and a calming rage settled deep within his soul.

"Redeemed? No, I don't think that's necessary."

The anger that had been flaring froze in an instant. "It isn't?" Ben asked, confused as to what the point of this conversation had been if it had not been intended as a bid to turn him toward the light.

"Redemption," Krillien explained patiently, "at least in the sense that most people use it, implies an inherent need to be saved. But you don't need to be saved - you don't need to recapture the light: What you need is to find a middle-ground between the dark and the light because both are necessary to your own survival."

"The dark side has served me well," Ben protested.

Krillien squinted in disbelief, a unimpressed frown pulled down the edges of his lips. "Maybe in some respects, but it won't be enough to get rid of Snoke."

The reminder of his former master reignited a bit of the fear that had been so prevalent in Ben just moments before in the memory he had unwillingly shared with Rey. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, Snoke was lying in wait for the perfect moment to pounce once more and demolish whatever meager resistance Ben put up - if he fought at all.

"I don't have much time left here," Krillien said, dragging Ben's thoughts back to the strange conversation he was having with his long-dead friend. "There's one more memory I have to show you." Krillien stretched out his left hand towards Ben's head, "I apologize in advance: This last one is going to hurt."  
***

 _ **There is no chaos, there is harmony.**_

 _ **There is no death, there is the Force.**_

 _The brilliant clash of vibrant yellow and incandescent red temporarily blinded Krillien's vision. Fortunately, he didn't need to see perfectly in order to know that Ben's blade would next sweep to the right to get out from under Krillien's saber. Undoubtedly, Ben would immediately follow up this parry with a barrage of overhanded strikes meant to shatter his opponent's defenses._

 _As such, Krillien reacted without thinking, fully realizing that his fighting techniques were just as predictable to Ben as Ben's were to Krillien: they had fought and trained together far too often over the years to catch one another off guard with an uncalculated maneuver._

 _Krillien spun his double-bladed lightsaber in a tight loop close to his body, forming a protective shield from the relentless onslaught of Ben's much stronger offensive attacks._

 _Against any other opponent, Krillien would have put more effort into combining his Force attacks with his lightsaber skills, as Niman style was generally best utilized when fighting just as much with the Force as with an actual lightsaber. But protective instinct held him back._

 _In training, it was usually a toss-up on which of them would win as their skill levels in their respective combat forms were shockingly equal. Half the time, Krillien was able to stay on the defensive and keep just out of reach long enough to wear Ben down, only to come in at the last second with a flurry of Force-enhanced strikes intended to force Ben to unnaturally fall back into defensive positions. The other half of the time, the battle was over within a few short moments due to Krillien's inability to maintain his defenses as Ben hammered through his protective shield with relative ease._

 _This time, however, Krillien knew exactly how their fight would end._

 _He grunted softly in aggravation as Ben's crimson blade slid a hairsbreadth below his left arm where it should have struck a minor blow: when Krillien had warned his friend that they actually were fighting for their lives, he hadn't meant to insinuate that Ben should start missing his mark on purpose. Though to an outsider the subtle miss would have been hardly noticeable, to Krillien - and he worried, to Snoke - the error was glaringly obvious._

 _It had only been a few, precious moments since Kylo Ren's master had rightly surmised that disloyalty was prevalent in his ranks of soldiers and Krillien knew that both he and Ben were already tiring._

 _His suspicion was confirmed a few seconds later when another one of Ben's normally-precise strikes fell short of its intended destination: he was growing sloppy in his attempts to not land a major blow._

 _To try and cover for Ben's purposeful mistakes in form, Krillien pushed his body to its limits. Falling back into the chiefly defensive tactics of Form III, he kept his saber spinning in a wide arch at a speed he would not be able to keep steady for long. He could only hope that his sudden increase in frenzied activity would discourage the Supreme Leader from paying too close of attention to the ever-increasing breaks in form._

 _If the errors were noticed, the consequences would be severe._

 _There was only one thing left to do, then._

 _Flipping his lightsaber suddenly forward, Krillien caught the tip of Ben's saber and redirected the blade slightly to the right with a flick of his wrist. "I'm sorry," he squeezed the words from his overused lungs by sheer willpower, "but I will not lead you into death."_

 _As focused as he was on dragging the fight out for as long as possible, Krillien doubted that Ben actually heard him speak._

 _Oddly, the current situation did not fill him with dread or any sort of fear - merely regret and more than a bit of guilt. He wouldn't be around to see what happened next; he would no longer be able to protect those he loved._

 _He could now only hope that his vision of a unified galaxy could somehow come to pass one day._

 _As Krillien calmly watched Ben's blade circle back around to where he had predicted it would land, he did not see the entirety of his life flash before his eyes; he did not see the faces of those he loved; he did not long for an escape from his final trial._

 _All he saw was the sudden glint of realization in Ben's eyes as Krillien lowered his own lightsaber a fraction of an inch and stepped directly into the blade's trajectory that was now impossible to change._

 _His last thought as the raging beam of energy sliced through his ribcage without resistance was that he wished he had the chance to explain his actions.  
***_

 _There is freedom in life._

 _There is purpose in death._

Krillien's final memory reaffirmed what Ben had already known: Getting sliced apart by a lightsaber was excruciating.

"Why-" he gasped, trying to regain the feeling of his own mind as the memory faded out of sight, "why did you show me that?"

"Because actions viewed through our own eyes are largely inaccurate depictions of events as they are filtered through the lens of our own inadequacies."

"By that reasoning," Ben answered, feeling both strangely disconnected from events and overcome with unexplainable emotions at the same time, "your view of me is not to be trusted."

Krillien's tone softened in response to Ben's obvious frustration, "I see you now as I have always seen you: My stubborn friend who had the cards unfairly stacked against him, yet who refused to fall under the weight of overwhelming odds without putting up one hell of a fight."

Krillien's unwavering loyalty even in death was wholly unnerving.

"You were winning." Deep down, some part of Ben had always known that his and Krillien's final fight should have ended much differently: the fight had gone on for too long and he hadn't been at his best, distracted as he was by Krillien's insistence that one of them had to die. "You should have killed me, not sacrificed yourself."

"Kill you?" Krillien frowned again, appearing disturbed, "Killing you was never even an option that crossed my mind."

"Why not?" Ben questioned, ignoring the incessant hum of the thick darkness encroaching upon his consciousness.

"Joining the First Order was never about personal survival for me," Krillien explained. "It was about, well...doing whatever was necessary to protect the people I cared about."

The sentiment sounded all too familiar.

"Hm, you and Rey would get along well," Ben mused.

"I've met her, actually," Krillien replied, a sly glint of amusement settling in his eyes. "I like her: she seems strong, determined, not the type of woman you want to cross. Don't you think so?"

"...Sure." Ben answered, feeling suddenly like he had unknowingly been backed into a corner.

"Well," Krillien stood easily, "you have a lot to contemplate so I'll leave you to it. Just remember that the entire galaxy is directly affected by whatever choice you end up making - so no pressure there." Ben had never been great at picking up sarcasm, but Krillien knew this and, thus, tended to overemphasize to get his point across.

Krillien paused mid-turn as his Force ghost form began to blur, "Oh, and just a tip, Ben: Women don't generally cross galaxies and help overthrow corrupt regimes for guys they don't care about. So quit being so kriffing oblivious and acknowledge the rather obvious fact that the two of you are rather perfect for each other."

 _A/N: I forgot to add this originally: Feel free to follow me on Twitter (scarletdestiny9) so we can converse about SW and this fic, if you want.  
_ _You are all amazing and I appreciate all of the support that has been shown this fic; thank you!_


	16. Chapter 16: Freedom in Life

Rey had forgotten how suffocating the darkness on Korriban truly was until it was no longer weakened and partially contained by Ben. Raging heat tore at her connection to the light, threatening to eclipse her brightness entirely.

 _I_ have _to get off this planet._ The soft clicking of her boots striking against the marble floor hardly soothed her as she continued to pace.

Over the past day and a half, it had been a struggle to control her growing fear and frustration: fear brought on by Snoke's ever-present and increasing control over what remained of Ben's mind; frustration that there was little she could do to help.

Anya leaned casually by the open doorway, staring out at the sky aflame with the red light from the setting sun. Ever since Ben had relapsed almost two days ago, Anya had been floating around near Rey wherever she went in the temple. It turned out that having a self-appointed bodyguard did absolutely nothing to dispel any of the suspicion Rey felt towards the Knights.

"How long are you going to stand around instead of helping him?" Rey snapped, unable to keep her frustration bottled up any longer.

The slightly older woman made no move to turn around or even acknowledge Rey's comment.

Rey huffed in annoyance; her frustration was quickly turning into a burning ember of anger at all of the things she couldn't control. All her life, she had been searching for answers: Who was she? Where did she come from? What was her purpose?

Her entire life, she had been looking for someone to depend on, someone who would recognize her value and accept her for who she was. Finally, after years of searching and wondering, she had found someone who, against all logic and in defiance of all odds, actually _saw_ her and was not immediately revolted.

And now he was quite possibly dying.

"Any assistance I now offered would, in all probability, only serve to hasten the complete breakdown of his mind." Anya stated calmly.

Rey paused mid-step, a glimmer of hope lightened deep within her soul. "But he wouldn't die?"

Anya turned then and fixed Rey with a weighted, knowing look in her wise eyes, "There are states of being much worse than death."

"But he wouldn't die?" Rey repeated earnestly. Besides death, she felt confident that anything else could be solved with a bit of time.

"No," Anya said slowly, "he wouldn't die. However, I am not convinced he is dying even now."

"So what are we waiting for?" Rey practically shouted, the driving need to _do something_ threatened to pull her apart at the seams. "If there's something you can do, you have to-"

"Rey," Anya took a step forward, impeding Rey's ability to continue pacing by easily blocking her path. "Contrary to what everyone else in this blasted temple would tell you, you need to think through this logically - in a serene and collected fashion."

There was wisdom in Anya's words, Rey knew, but the emotions swirling through her heart and mind refused to pause long enough to listen.

"If you won't help, then-" Rey thought of the other knights with their potent dark side power and oppressive, intimidating figures. "Then I'll find someone who will."

Approaching one of the much-less morally sound knights and basically demanding assistance was not a solid idea. _But,_ Rey thought, squaring her shoulders, _in moments of desperation, we can't be picky about who helps us._

"I did not say that I would withhold my aid!" Anya called out as Rey stormed from the room.

Rey ignored her and continued on her determined path down to the "mess hall" where she knew the Knights often gathered when they were not out on missions.

Expectedly, Anya followed close behind, though she made no further comment about logic, nor did she make any move to halt Rey as she swiftly walked down through the maze of indistinguishable, cavernous hallways towards her destination.

This time, Rey swore to herself, she would not allow the knights to intimidate her. _Before the past few weeks, I spent all my life standing up for myself and not giving in to what others wanted. I can do this. I don't need Ben, or anyone else, to protect me._

Even with her self-assurances, her mind felt dull and empty without the familiar, comforting weight of Ben's consciousness perfectly nestled inside of her own.

As much as she hated the mental image of Ben slashing apart his own order of knights, it had been extremely comforting to know that she wouldn't be fighting alone if any of the Dark Jedi rebelled. But now she was alone once again.

Shadows flickered in intensity as she passed by, reacting to her boiling emotions. The fear, as chilling and ominous as the yawning, black caverns she passed, was hers alone. Anger against Snoke burned as bright as Korriban's sun and simmered within her heart, echoed infinitely by the endless supply of dark side energy churning in the core of the planet.

Rey shoved down her growing guilt at giving in to her emotions, telling herself that what she felt was justified: righteous anger drove her, not a thirst for revenge.

Snoke would pay for what he had done, even if Rey had to find a way to bring the smug, manipulative bastard back to life just so she could obliterate him herself. No matter the cost, she would find a way to save Ben Solo.  
***

A clamor of strained, argumentative voices reached her ears as she grew closer to the spacious room reserved for mealtimes and gatherings of the knights.

Rey herself had spent little time in the hall, as she had chosen instead to stay cloistered away with Ben in more run-down sections of the desolate temple as he had unpacked the extensive and, oftentimes, obscure feud between the Jedi and the Sith. Yet, even with all of Ben's training and knowledge, there still remained gaps of thousands of years between portions of the history he had imparted to her. In those moments, sitting in the remnants of a Sith temple from a long-forgotten age as the Force flowed passively between them, Rey desperately wished for simpler times where the two of them could freely wander the wide galaxy in search of buried secrets and knowledge so ancient it defied reason itself to still exist.

Instead, she stood warily in the threshold of the dining hall, gathering up all of her courage and relying on all of her emotions to take that first bold step into the dimly-lit room. The overlapping voices hushed the second her feet stepped into the room.

"And so the apprentice comes out of hiding at long last." Rey refused to allow her courage to falter as Damien fixed her with a haughty glare.

 _At this point,_ Rey thought resignedly, _it makes more sense to just go along with the whole "apprentice" bit rather than explain that I'm...that we're…_

In truth, she had no idea what label to use to define her relationship with Ben. They had begun as enemies, then turned into hesitant allies, then returned to being enemies, then back to allies, then to friends. However, she doubted the knights would respond well to her clarifying that Ben was not her master, simply her friend.

And yet, he was so much more than a friend.

Finn was a friend. Poe was a friend. Rose was a friend.

Ben was...something else entirely.

Snapping her mind back to focus on her present circumstances, Rey scanned the room in an effort to decide which of the knights would be best to approach for help.

Damien set her on edge: his cold, violent tendencies made Ben's fits of rage appear tame in comparison. Plus, the man reminded Rey far too much of some of the scummier junk traders on Jakku who had thought her weak and defenseless, who had seen her as the perfect prey. She had proven each and every one of those traders wrong by breaking their bones whenever they had tried to come near her; she would not hesitate to do the same to this giant, powerful man now glaring down at her from across the room.

Seire unnerved her in a different manner. The man was sly and cunning, yet charismatic and soft-spoken. Rey didn't trust him one bit. After all, jealousy was a strong motivation and Rey figured the man wouldn't hesitate to strike her down if he thought it would make him Kylo Ren's apprentice. Thankfully, Seire wasn't even present in the room - just one fewer knight she had to worry about at the moment.

Nimick - whom Rey had only met once before, but whom she often glanced wandering rather aimlessly around the temple - was not a logical choice. From the little Rey knew of the blue-skinned Twi'lek, it was clear that he was more of a silent and deadly fighter - a hunter trained in the art of stealth and secrecy who was capable of sneaking in virtually anywhere to commit assassinations - rather than a person who could be relied upon to help her defeat Snoke. If she ever wanted someone killed with no trace left behind, she would go to Nimick without a second's hesitation, but his Force presence was not nearly strong enough to aid in her task.

Rey continued flicking her eyes from one knight to the next, eventually coming to the edge of the room where a woman with skin the color of blood stood watching Rey with an amused twitch on her thin, black lips. Rey knew better than to be thrown by Bryn's charming flash of brilliantly-white teeth: the woman had skin like a chameleon and a personality that was just as diverse - she could appear virtually however she desired in order to fit her environment.

For the first time, it struck Rey just how neatly put-together the Knights of Ren were - it was almost as if each member had been specially picked in order to fill an assigned role. Damien had brute strength and a cunning mind; Serie was a political mastermind who utilized every speck of Force-persuasion necessary to achieve his goals; Nimick had the silent, deadly accuracy of a bounty hunter and cold, almost robotic emotions that could only be formed through long years of emotional suppression; Bryn routinely shed her skin, seduced new targets to gain information, and then ran them through with her lightsaber, all with a sincere smile gracing her face.

Rey hadn't yet decided how she felt about Tahl. For reasons she had not fully parsed out, the silver-haired man held a measure of authority over the rest of the knights. Unlike Serie, Tahl wasn't overly charismatic, nor was he strikingly intimidating like Damien, but neither did he posses the calm confidence of Anya.

Anya, Rey was figuring out more and more, absolutely did not belong in the order of knights. Whereas each of the knights bent the Force to their own will in some fashion or another, Anya was content to allow the Force to move as it willed and drew on it for peace, not violence. In comparison, Rey felt her own connection to the Light lacking and her own emotions in utter turmoil. Anya was a clear picture of what a Jedi ought to be: tender and gentle when the situation called for it, tough and unyielding when faced with opposition; peace and justice flowed through her veins in perfect sychnocity with the Force.

"Did you require assistance with some matter, Padawan?" Rey jumped slightly in response to the unexpected, vibrant voice of Tahl coming from directly behind her.

Tahl was dressed all in black, causing him to blend in with the shadows cast by minimal overhead lighting. Black was the color all of the knights wore, though their outfits varied as drastically as their personalities: ranging from tactical battle gear to the more traditional robes. With their hues of grey and blue, Rey and Anya noticeably stuck out.

 _Yes,_ Rey longed to say but the word stuck in her throat. "What are _you_ doing here?" The question slipped out before she had a chance to control her ever-present concern.

"Don't worry," Tahl replied softly. Gesturing slightly to Bryn, he continued, "We're just switching up the guard - no one is going to harm your master. If there's one thing we're good at, it's keeping Kylo Ren alive."

 _Alive is good,_ Rey reassured her shaken nerves. As much as she wanted to argue that the knights clearly had not been doing their job because Snoke was still tormenting Ben, she couldn't refute the fact that he was still alive. Though he was anything but well.

"If you're so worried," Bryn whispered as she swept past, "then you can take the next watch." The way the multi-colored woman winked knowingly at her on her way past set Rey on edge. _It's not - My feelings, they're not - obvious, right?_

"Do you have a specific reason for being here?" The hostility in Damien's tone did not go unnoticed by Rey and, she suspected, everyone else in the room.

Anger coiled within her, demanding to be released. How dare this man question her right to be anywhere -

"I'm certain she's here for the same reason we all are," Tahl commented, smoothly covering for Rey's momentary loss of emotional control.

"And what is that reason?" Nimick spoke up quietly from his place a few paces away from the gathering.

"To discuss Serie's most recent report concerning the Resistance."

 _The Resistance?_ All of Rey's anger dissipated in a flash as confusion clouded her mind. _What do they know about the Resistance?_ She longed to cast a glance in Anya's direction to gauge what the woman knew about this startling information, but recognized that giving away their connection to the Resistance would likely be unwise.

"Serie has confirmed the exact number of Resistance fighters currently located on Dxun's surface," Tahl quickly crossed to the middle of the room and activated a small holomap that clearly portrayed the area surrounding the Resistance's base. "Seven-hundred-eighteen soldiers currently reside on the surface. Another thousand are stationed in shuttles orbiting the planet, and a few thousand more are down on Onderon awaiting orders. Of course, this information does not include the exact whereabouts of the Resistance's allies on other planets in the Outer Rim."

 _This is not good._ Rey was rooted to the spot, unable to move closer to better inspect the holomap, yet unable to tear herself away from the meeting in order to warn her friends.

"What are we going to do with this information?" Nimick questioned, wiping down the barrel of a particularly dangerous-looking blaster.

"Kill them all, of course." Damien's hand was already clasped tightly around the thick metal of his lightsaber in eager preparation for the upcoming battle.

"Is that a wise course of action given our meager numbers?" Anya interjected from her position a few steps behind Rey.

"You think a couple thousand soldiers are any match for the Knights of Ren?"

If the circumstances weren't as dire, Rey would rolled her eyes at Damien's haughty comment. She knew precisely what the Resistance was capable of and she had no doubt that, given adequate time to prepare, the Resistance could take down a few Dark Jedi. But the circumstances were indeed dire. Unless she could figure out a way to send a message ahead of the strike force, the Resistance would be caught completely unprepared to fight five highly-skilled Force-users.

Rey doubted that she and Anya would be able to take all of the knights. The odds would be better if they had Ben on their side, but he was entirely useless at the moment.

 _Ben. What am I supposed to do? I can't leave him here alone!_

"If we attack now," Tahl said, leaning against the wooden table, "then we do so against direct orders."

 _Direct orders-_ Dread filled her stomach with lead. _No. He wouldn't. He - Absolutely would._ In hindsight, all of the signs had been there she just hadn't wanted to acknowledge them. He had never promised not to go after the Resistance, had never mentioned them to her even in passing the entire time they had been on Korriban. She had been foolish to believe that he was capable of changing one of his driving motivations so quickly simply because she was present.

"Since when is Ren against us eliminating the Resistance?" Damien growled, sending Rey a scalding glare.

"A desire for caution does not negate a call to action," Anya insisted, returning Damien's glare with a cold, leveled stare of her own. _What are you doing, Anya? You're supposed to be helping me talk them out of attacking._

"What would you suggest we do?" Nimick questioned, turning his small, black eyes away from his blaster and up to Tahl.

Tahl sighed heavily, "Going against our orders would be the same as committing treason."

"Armed with that knowledge, signal Serie to return to Korriban," Anya commanded. _Right. Much better._

"And ignore the chance we have to snuff out the last hope in the galaxy?" Damien argued, "They're all neatly lined up for us in one small corner of the universe and you want us to back away because you're afraid of getting in trouble?"

"Ren wants the Resistance gone more than any of us," Nimick added. "If he were able to give the order, we would already be on our way to Dxun."

"It's four against three," Damien stated smugly. "You know Serie and Bryn would agree that taking out the Resistance now is the best course of action."

"Three?" Tahl inquired.

"Clearly the apprentice isn't going to go against her master's wishes," Nimick said, eyeing her warily. "And you don't seem keen on breaking from your orders."

There was nothing Rey could say in opposition. She gritted her teeth, _I'm not his apprentice._

"Rey," Anya firmly grabbed her arm and began pulling her from the room, "a word?"

Fuming, Rey allowed herself to be guided out into the hallway a far enough distance from the mess hall so as not to be overheard.

"This is not an ideal situation," Anya began.

"Ideal?" Rey bit back, "They want to murder my friends!"

"Listen to me!" Anya hissed, moving closer. "At this moment, the Resistance holds no meaning for you, not if you intend to leave this place alive." Rey opened her mouth to argue but Anya's withering glare was enough to have her snapping her jaw shut. "The only thing keeping you safe right now is that none of them suspect that you have any ties to the Resistance - all you are is the apprentice of Kylo Ren. Do you understand me?"

Rey swallowed her pride and nodded sharply.

"As long as the knights continue to believe that you are his apprentice, then you remain under his sovereign protection - they would not dare strike against you and risk facing his wrath. However," Anya continued, sparing a quick glance back in the direction of the dining chamber, "If any one of them thinks for even the briefest of moments that you pose a threat to Ren, they will cut you down without hesitation."

"Okay," Rey responded softly. "Then what can we do? I refuse to just sit here and let my friends die!"

"I am not asking that of you," Anya insisted, taking a step back and fidgeting with the hilt of her lightsaber. "I am merely requesting discretion."

Rey began pacing again, her mind racing through all possible courses of action. "Can we take a ship and race ahead to warn the Resistance?"

"That would place us in an unwise position: Our sudden departure would appear quite suspicious and even if we left immediately, we would likely reach Dxun only moments before the knights - that does not provide enough time for an evacuation."

"Whatever action we take, it isn't enough." Rey sighed and raked her hands agitatedly through her hair, "This only ends in a battle, doesn't it?"

"That does seem to be how this will play out, yes."

"They're going to kill my friends. They're going to destroy Onderon. Doesn't that bother you?" Rey demanded.

"It bothers me a great deal," Anya admitted, staring down at the cracked marble floor. "War brings chaos and death and, try as we might, we cannot escape the consequences of our actions."

"I have to find a way to save them," Rey stated determidly.

"I understand," Anya said, voice soft and mellow. "The Resistance is your family - and there is nothing more important than family."

The level of conviction with which Anya's last comment was made had Rey pausing. Absentmindedly, her hand strayed down to Krillien's lightsaber - _her_ lightsaber now. _Does Anya know what happened to her brother? Does she know that he sacrificed himself to save Ben?_

Amidst her training with Ben, worry over his deteriorating condition, and constant concern for her friends in the Resistance, Rey had had little time to think through the possible repercussions of the stories she had been told and the memories she had been drawn into.

"I do have a plan," Anya stated confidently, breaking Rey from her thoughts. "However, it involves a choice that you would rather not have to make."  
***

Rey hovered anxiously in the doorway to Ben's chambers, trying desperately to will herself to step further into the room. All of the anger and disappointment she had felt upon learning that he had sent Serie to spy on the Resistance evaporated the moment she glimpsed his fevered and restless state. It was impossible to stay raving mad when he was so clearly struggling just to stay alive.

"Take a moment," Anya insisted, usuring Bryn from the room. "The others are almost prepared to depart, but they dare not leave without us on board."

The plan, as Anya had explained it, was far from perfect. Rey was uncomfortable with relying so much on luck, but Anya seemed certain that the Force would guide their actions in such a way that the just and right prospered.

Rey moved slowly toward the wide, simple bed, doing her best to ignore the churning of her stomach and the twisting of her heart that told her she was making the wrong decision. "I'm sorry," she said softly, wishing that the Force bond was stronger so she could be certain Ben was hearing her words. But whatever was happening in his mind, whatever havoc Snoke was wrecking now, had successfully severed the majority of their connection.

"I know it's hard for you to understand," she continued, tentatively reaching out to grasp his trembling hand in her own. "-But I have to go save my friends. I can't let them die." _And I can't let you die, either._

"Anya says that there isn't much they can do to help you - that you are the only one who can drive Snoke out." Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill as she took in his pinched and pained expression - even unconscious Snoke refused to leave him alone. "So keep fighting him - don't you dare give up." It was unfair of her to demand it, she knew, but the thought of losing him was too much for her to bear.

"I can't fight him for you. I can't save you." Oh how she wanted to. Undoubtedly, this feeling of helplessness, of being forced to stand idly by while the person you loved most in the universe suffered so much anguish was precisely how Krillien had felt. The symbolism of now carrying his lightsaber was not lost on Rey - she would gladly take up the responsibility of doing whatever was necessary to save Ben Solo.

Even if that meant letting him go to fight his demons while she fought against her own to save her friends.

"This isn't me abandoning you," Rey clarified, uselessly pushing against the thick walls surrounding his consciousness. "I am coming back for you - I promise."

Then, because she could think of no other words to say, she gently swept aside a few strands of hair that were stuck to his flushed and burning skin. Leaning down, she pressed a tender kiss to the middle of his brow.

She let go of her past anger and rage - at herself, at her parents, at him.

All that remained was a startingly bright hope for the future. She had played her part - had done all she could to save him. Now, whatever the future held depended on his decision: to fight or to flee.  
***

 _A/N: Only three chapters and the epilogue left! Thank you to everyone who has followed and reviewed!  
_ _I'm also taking a poll: Do you all want the prequel to this story (detailing Ben's childhood - including more Krillien - and fall) or the sequel which takes place right after Whispers in the Dark first? Feel free to let me know in the comments!_


	17. Chapter 17: Purpose in Death

Krillien had vanished, once again leaving Ben alone to confront his most haunting nightmare: the voice inside his head. It had been there as far back as he could remember. Long before he knew to call the voice by its proper name - Snoke, Supreme Leader, Master - it had lurked in the shadowy recesses of his mind, waiting patiently for his most vulnerable moments to begin its chilling litany of condemnation.

As a child, he had believed the voice to be reassuring - had even referred to it as "friend." Whenever he felt alone - whenever his father left again on another of his smuggling trips, whenever his mother was too preoccupied with strengthening the New Republic to spend much time exploring the wonders of Chandrila with him - he knew he could always rely on the voice to be there, echoing his own hurts.

When he grew a bit older, he began to wonder if not everyone heard voices. He had thought it normal, assumed that it was simply a thing everyone dealt with and so no one ever spoke about it. Krillien had tried to convince him otherwise. Repeatedly, he had pleaded with Ben to ask his uncle or his parents for advice, to admit that something was off. But how could something be wrong with the voice that had always been with him?

By the time he understood more of how the Force worked - in large part due to his uncle's training and his own explorations and study of the more forbidden artifacts leftover from long forgotten ages when the Jedi and Sith had openly waged war - he was too accustomed to the voice's presence to bring it up in conversation. If he spoke up now only to find that he had been wrong, that not everyone had a presence lurking in their minds, then Luke would question why he had never said anything. _Why would he believe you?_ the voice would whisper. _If there is something wrong with you, then surely Luke already knows. He doesn't trust you - none of them do._ The voice was surely right, he reasoned, because it had never led him astray before. He let the matter drop and soon forgot why he had considered telling anyone in the first place.

Shortly thereafter, the excruciating pain began. Before, he would occasionally experience a dull ache in his head when he didn't agree with what the voice was saying - sometimes it spoke ill of his mother and he fought back in anger. But then the pain had been almost constant, pounding against his skull whenever a fleeting thought of dissent swept across his mind. Snoke had been forming him, he recognized now, molding his thoughts and beliefs to mirror his master's own.

Childish interpretations of friendship had long since passed. What he had once wrongly misconstrued as a helpful student-teacher relationship had been dashed to pieces. It had taken him far too long to piece together his true lot in life. To Snoke, he was nothing more than a servant, a weapon with which to strike down enemies.

Krillien had been right all along. Until now, he had never actually understood the role he had been playing his entire life.

But now he finally understood. Whereas Rey had come from nothing and made herself a valuable member of the Resistance and a shining beacon of hope to the galaxy, he had come from everything - the Sith, the Jedi, royalty, war heroes, and legends - and yet had fallen from grace. He had essentially become nothing.

He had tried to blame his parents for giving up on him, had placed all remaining fault on his uncle for failing him. But the truth of the matter was that he was weak: he had allowed Snoke to slowly and meticulously extinguish the light inside of his soul until his entire being was nothing more than a black hole of bitterness, anguish, and rage.

In the end, he had no one to blame for his fall except himself.

Somehow, against all clear line of reasoning that he could see, admitting that he alone was responsible for his fall brought a sense of calm, of freedom.

In the dark caverns of his mind, he stood slowly and began walking - his destination firmly decided.

As he passed by, he refused to heed the call of memories beckoning to him from far off. Krillien had graciously cracked open his own store of memories and offered him a new perspective on events that had long been twisted or scrubbed from his mind. His personal recollection of these memories were dull but he intrinsically knew that what Krillien had shown him was the truth.

His brief glance at the life he had left behind - been forced to abandon, he had once claimed - had left him curious to remember the rest. No, he realized, it wasn't simple curiosity that drove him down the echoing chambers of his mind to the darkest portion where his demons lay. He was furious - at himself, mostly, but also at Snoke.

He had to know what memories lay fractured and buried - what memories Snoke had cruelly torn from his mind in order to better control him. They were _his_ memories; it was _his_ life. He deserved to know. He _needed_ to know.

For the first time, he boldly slammed open the ornately-carved door to the mock representation of Snoke's throne room that had embedded itself in his mind ages ago. Unlike Snoke's throne room that had been present on the _Supremacy_ , this room was smaller, darker, less subtle in its implications of a sinister presence. Here, Snoke had no one he had to intimidate into submission. The guards, the red decor, the oculus viewing scope, none of it was included because none of it was necessary.

The sinister presence draped gracelessly on the highbacked, charcoal and ebony-colored throne was the only source of intimidation necessary to keep Kylo in line.

Ben opened his mouth to speak, rage flooding out from his every pore, but Snoke lifted one slim finger to silence his outburst before it even began. Out of years of habit, he froze and quickly retracted his words before they spilled out.

But anger burned too brightly within him to diminish simply because of a reflexive twinge of fear. Cowardice would not suffice. Backing down only ended with him wrapped in mental chains. There was no running from this confrontation - not now. Not when there was finally something worth fighting for.

Someone, really.

His right hand tightened slightly by his side, unconsciously grasping at the space where his lightsaber normally would be. Steeling himself, he stepped forward. Shallow breaths barely filled his lungs as he slowly forced his eyes upward to look the deceased Supreme Leader in the eye. Nothing shone in those cold black eyes besides a steady haughtiness. And a brief flicker of some emotion that Ben could not place.

"We're finished," Ben stated, shoving down his trepidation.

"Finished?" Snoke laughed mockingly. "We are never finished. I am already dead, fool boy. Try as you might, you cannot slay me again." He spread apart his hands and grinned sickeningly, "I have never left you before and I never will."

"You're only in my head," Ben argued, refusing to retreat. "If I shove you out, then you're as good as dead."

"Only in your head? What do you consider me?"

"A parasite."

A low, grating chuckle rose in Snoke's throat. "A parasite? I am more powerful than you could ever dream."

Krillien's words echoed in his mind: _You see yourself as nothing more than a conduit for power…_

"No," Ben replied, stopping at the foot of the dias. "If you were truly so powerful, you never would have needed me. And you worked so very hard to make sure I wouldn't interfere with your plans.

"But I remember," he whispered softly. "I remember that as the years went by, I forgot to question the lies you wove. I stopped struggling. I gave in because I thought I required guidance - needed answers only you could provide!"

A twisted grin still stretched Snoke's leathery skin, but another brief flash of foreign emotion crossed his face as he took in the determined, immovable form of his once-apprentice standing so boldly before him. "You cannot kill me a second time," he repeated. "Drive me out! What will stop me from seeking out another strong Force presence to attach to?"

The threat was immediately obvious. But how could it be achievable? "You will not harm Rey," he insisted, surprised by how calm his voice sounded even as emotions swirled uncontrollably within him.

"And how will you stop me? Force me from your mind and I become free to-"

"Your Force Ghost is bound to me," Ben interrupted. The realization was not so startling once he considered the facts. "It was unintentional, wasn't it? You never planned to embed the remnants of your soul in my mind forever." A sense of elation swept through him; victory was not so far out of his grasp as he had once thought. "All those years you whispered to me in the dark, attempting to turn me, to control me, and you never thought ahead far enough to imagine what that sort of connection could create."

Snoke was silent, his face quivering with barely contained rage.

"You may be bound to me," Ben proclaimed, "but I am not bound to you. You do not control me any longer."

A memory came to life before his eyes: Rey, her strained and conflicted features bathed in soft firelight, spilling out her worst fears to him from across the galaxy. She had been so distressed, in such desperate need of some sort of comfort. Her loneliness and need for a source of validation had beaten mercilessly against the remaining stones surrounding his heart. Here was a kindred spirit, someone who understood the ache of having everyone in your life desert you. The words had tumbled from his lips before he had a moment to consider them, to mull over the consequences of comforting the woman who, by all accounts, was his enemy. "You're not alone," he had said, having never spoken truer words in his life.

The last thing he had expected was for her to repeat the sentiment with unequivocal sincerity in her voice. In that moment, all his doubts had been pushed aside; fear was a foreign concept. What was war, what was power, what was the entire galaxy compared to this fearless woman in front of him who held no disgust in her eyes, no fury for who he was? No speck of terror wracked her strong, beautiful frame as she reached across the fire - through the flames that had long burned him, past the darkness that had sought to suffocate him - intent on expressing her sincerity with the simplest touch.

He had been drawn to her warmth and compassion, unable to stop the draw of the Force itself that seemed to be pulling them together. Then again, he hadn't tried to cut the connection - hadn't wanted the moment to ever end. With each passing millisecond that their hands hovered closer together - aching to touch but fully conscious of the numerous times each had been scorned in the past - he hardly dared to breathe, afraid that any sudden move on his part would remind this brazen source of light of his true character. But then their fingertips had brushed together and, in a stunning moment of clarity, he knew he would never be the same.

The memory vanished just as quickly as it had crept up, but the hope it had inspired remained in his heart. His anger remained, clear and strong, but a distinct and foreign sense of peace cocooned his mind. The darkness alone could not aid him.

" _You will not bow before Snoke,"_ Rey had claimed. And how right she was turning out to be.

"Your reign has come to an end. Finally." Spots of bright star light began to appear in the throne room, driving back the heaviness of Snoke's oppression. Unlike the white, silky threads of light that he had attributed to Rey when she repaired portions of his memory, these splotches of light were dull and unassuming, yet steady.

"Perhaps I cannot kill you, but nor am I going to release you."

All traces of haughtiness had been wiped from Snoke's face the moment he began noticing the grey shadows. "You have no other options!" he hissed, expression contorted into a sneer that Ben suddenly remembered from his recurring nightmares as a young child. However, unlike then, he was not afraid of the monster lurking in the shadows, pulling strings from behind the scenes.

"Oh, I can think of one option." The barest hint of a grin pulled at the corners of his lips as he took in Snoke's aghast expression.

Without giving his former master a chance to react, Ben compelled the throne Snoke was sitting on to begin shifting. Tendrils of metal unwound from the throne, wrapping tightly around the scarred alien's limbs. The towering headrest bowed low, bending in half in order to cover the monster's face. The rest of the throne followed suit, contorting and twisting until the entire structure resembled nothing more than a large cage, from which there was no escape.

Though no sound could penetrate the folds of the prison, Ben could not resist making one final comment to creature who had bound him in servitude for so long, "She was right. Underestimating me was your downfall."

Burden lifted, he straightened his shoulders, surprised by the weightlessness he felt. His mind was clear, free from outside influence. It was unnatural.

A spark of fear ignited within him, but he refused to turn and give the caged beast a parting glance. There were no voices in his head, nothing to steer him in a chosen direction. He was finally free. And it was terrifying.


End file.
